Descent to Madness
by DustyDreamer
Summary: A girl wanders where she should not... she skirts the side of darkness every day. Eventually DM/LL
1. Dreamer

**Descent to Madness**

_Summary: _A girl wanders where she should not. She skirts the side of darkness everyday. Eventually DM/LL

_A/N:_this is my response to a challenge by orpheus-izanagi at the HP challenge forum. Warning: Rated 'T' for dark themes including sex and violence. I'll try and stick to T but it will mean reworking some later chapters, if not then the rating will go up!

Beta-read by je suis l.m!

_I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

* * *

'Lights out!' called Molly Weasley from the kitchen of the burrow. Her voice magnified to resonate throughout the house, though she had not used a spell to make it do so. Luna Lovegood had always thought of such things as a mother's talent. Other quirks like smelling out a dirty sock in a tidy room, or finding scarlet red underwear she'd accidentally left in with the pale washing, would also fit in with this assumption. Red was Luna's preferred underwear colour since the French claimed it brought luck. She also enjoyed wearing red socks; only they were even more skilled at finding their way into the washing. Occasionally, Luna would find herself watching her sock drawer to catch a glimpse of the famous Prosapio magical 'sockstealing' community. Her father had let her in on the secret when, on his 40th birthday, she'd questioned where all his older birthday presents were disappearing off to. He'd then revealed his collection of gift socks, or rather his odd collection. Not a single pair was to be found in the box. Luna had guarded her socks very carefully since, often opting for bright colours, that way a sighting of the toe-sized creatures was more probable.

'Out now, if you would!' Molly's weary voice sounded again.

'She must be very tired,' Luna sighed.

At Molly's second order, Luna heard the faint scrambling around in the room of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley about three doors down. She couldn't be sure but it sounded just like someone falling out of bed. Luna supposed they were having a quick discussion under the duvet: Nothing ends the day better then a little bedtime chit-chat,she thought. Of course, it wouldn't be Harry and Ron doing the talking, rather Harry and his girlfriend in one cuddle and Ron and his in another.

Poor Ron. Luna supposed it must be tough seeing your little sister make a palaver over her boyfriend everyday, especially when he had been your best friend for nine years. Luna wouldn't look up from her hands when the girls came in. She loved how skin would sparkle in the moonlight; it did so in the sun, too, but there was something magical about moonlit skin: it appeared to be painted metallic.

Sure enough, five minutes later, when they were sure Molly trusted them enough to not come inspecting upstairs, Hermione and Ginny came scuttling back into the room the three were sharing, both looking surprisingly peachy and out of breath considering they'd told Luna they were only going off to have a little 'cuddle' with the boys before turning in for the night.

Luna smiled knowingly at the glances the two girls offered each other as they passed her en route to bed. No doubt one had bumped into the other in the now darkened corridor of the burrow; Molly insisted on turning all lights off when they were asleep. Luna could hardly blame her. Poor Molly was worried sick, as was everyone else, about the safety of their loved ones, and what with Molly having five members of her family, plus her children's friends staying too, she had more right than most to feel anxious.

There was just something unsettling about a house sticking out in the black night, what with the death eaters circling the country and everything. Luna had heard they were looking for something, or rather, someone, though nobody seemed to know what, not even the Death Eaters themselves. And even if they did, on the face of it they did not know why.

Of course nobody had actually stated this as fact, but one could gather it easily from piecing odds and ends of newspaper cut-outs together—always a favourite pastime of Luna's. While Hermione spent her mornings scaling every written-on inch of the Daily Prophet, Luna enjoyed cutting the thing to pieces with scissors, before re-arranging the bits of stories to make something entirely new. It had been one of the 'quickspirations' to feature in her Father's magazine one month. Whether they appealed or not, Luna would always try them, and, as was with the newspaper clipping's case, she often found herself hooked and doing the suggestions scrupulously. She tried bits and bobs in most activities, picking her choice of hobbies like one would with finger food.

And so it was the other morning when Luna had been pouring out the orange, that she spotted a five page spread on death-eater activity. Well, Luna had thought, why not turn the talent into a means of research, as it was. The pieces had oddly fit together on their own, appearing as though they wanted to aide Luna in her investigation. She only needed to provide the flexible fingers.

A sighting of four Death Eaters tearing down an antique shop was not much differently worded than another article, telling of how a bunch of them had taken over a Muggle shop before blowing it to pieces. In some other, more disturbing stories, Luna noticed how the missing list of people was growing to sound like a list of patients at St Mungo's. All the 'missings' (Luna preferred that term for the people, as it sounded more positive than 'victims') could be linked in one way or another, if not by hair colour then by other distinguishable features, such as having many freckles around their noses, or a small scar along their cheek. Luna had told the order about the Death Eaters' strange activity, though nobody other than Tonks and Remus had taken much notice. Not that Luna minded; she just wanted to help with anything she could. Sometimes the order seemed to forget that she put hard work in, as well. Though, that too did not phase Luna in the slightest. She was not dense and knew recognition always had a way of returning to its owner.

Pots and pans were clanking away downstairs, and the smell of honey and lemon wafted in through the crack in the door, where from Luna inhaled it with the sudden urge to shrink herself, so that she could swim in the dishwater—pre-dish washing of course. Molly Weasley really was a lovely woman, and she made sure that guests in her house were treated as though they were in her most inner family circle.

Luna had been staying at the burrow for roughly a week or so and had only ever felt more at home in one other place: her own home, over the hill. Ginny had invited Luna to stay whilst her father took a short but necessary trip to Australia, where he was researching the Yara-ma-yha-who creature for his newly created feature, 'Beasts of the World'. Luna had been very tempted to go, but her work for the order would always come before her own fruition (Luna loved the word, since it reminded her of happy mangoes and cheery pears).

Luna had come to think of Molly as the godmother she'd always wanted; in fact it was hard not to label everyone under the burrow's roof as some form of family. They had all become as such to Luna, in ways she had never known they could. It was a queer thing about war: it often brought many closer together. If it weren't for the hundred or so deaths and missing reports coming in every week, Luna would almost be happy about what was happening. Almost.

'Hey Luna, do you mind?' Ginny's voiced called from a hole in her nightgown as she shimmied it down and over her head. Puzzled, Luna raised her eyebrows in question. 'The bed?' Ginny elaborated when she'd finally pulled her head through, evidently glad to be able to breathe again.

'Oh no, sure! Go ahead.' Luna smiled from the armchair.

There were only two beds in the room tonight. Hermione had turned up a day earlier than they had planned; she'd rushed through an explanation that Luna hadn't quite caught, though she suspected it was something to do with her parents. Molly had been busy all day and had not had time to arrange a bed in their room for Hermione. Earlier that evening, Ginny had offered Hermione hers upon seeing the tired, dark circles around her eyes that were a clear sign of a dreadful night's sleep.

Luna couldn't remember the last time she'd slept badly, though it was likely somewhere around the time of her mother's death. Luna was comfy enough on the armchair, anyway, her legs dangling lazily off the end, where her newly polished toenails shimmered banana yellow. Ginny, thoughtful as always, tossed Luna a thick blanket over the small lump that was the sleeping Hermione. She really must be tired, Luna thought.

From where she sat she had a lovely view out the window over on the far wall. Luna closed her eyes and waited patiently for sleep. Before it came, she heard the soft snores of the redhead to her right. Somehow Luna always managed to be the last to sleep. It always came though; she just needed to be patient, and she was very good at that.

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Luna awoke in an icy burst of panic. Her skin tingled, though her room was warm and the window still shut.

She had always dreamt, every night for as long as she could remember, and they were usually pleasant enough with an occasional warning about a forgotten assignment or a weather forecast for the following day. Never before had a dream affected her in this way, at least not any other dream.

She replayed the dream in her mind, half in fear, half needing to remember if only in an attempt to grasp its meaning." In it, _she was venturing through a deep forest with only the light of a small white candle to keep her walking straight. Her destination didn't matter for she never reached it. Her feet began to burn as the ground grew hot; so she walked faster, as though staying idle for a moment would give her blisters. It was only after a short while that Luna began to question her candle; she couldn't understand how it would keep burning in spite of the fierce wind that blew her long cloak around her bare ankles. 'Surely all candles must come to an end at some point?' Luna recalled herself thinking. _

_And it seemed that thought was enough to stop whatever magic had kept the candle alive. Then the light died altogether, and there was nothing to distinguish but a bleak, foreboding darkness. She remembered trying to turn around, to come home, but her feet were no longer free. She was bound to continue downward into what she could only assume was somewhere she didn't belong. The pull had forced her onward until she finally began to see the thick dark ropes that twisted around her ankles, dragging her body along. They glowed a rich green before morphing into distorted human hands. Luna screamed as the forest floor began to shake beneath her feet. Then, she saw the flames break free through the ground as it opened to swallow her whole._

_A hungry beast of an inferno scorched her skin. Luna was weak, helpless and could do nothing but cry out for help as the fiery ropes dragged her to hell..._

Luna stared down; it had seemed so real. She could almost feel the burning forest floor tingle through her feet. Her toes pointed and relaxed repeatedly as she checked them over.

A muffled moan from across the room silenced her harsh breathing. Ginny Weasley rolled over in her peaceful slumber and mumbled a name Luna couldn't quite catch, but she knew would rhyme with Barry. Luna checked her Snorcack clock: 4:44am.

It had puzzled Luna why she always caught the time when all the numbers were alike. She worried that it was now too late to get any more sleep; otherwise she'd never get up in time for her morning duties. It was hard work keeping up with the order, what with all the mysterious requests from Harry—who had clearly been looked to as their leader once Dumbledore had passed—and the never ending risk of death that came with any job these days if did not involve allying oneself with Voldemort. Luna thought Harry really was a brilliant leader and wizard and felt glad to be under his orders. It brought a kind of feeling one associated with a parent when sick, that they would be all right so long as they had their parent there.

Luna often wondered how his supporters perceived Voldemort. Would it be with admiration or fear? Luna imagined it would be something else entirely, something she never wanted to understand.

She had never minded saying his name much though; she'd just avoided it so as not to upset others in school. What fear could a name possibly bring anyway?

But despite the baffling work, the fact that nobody other than Harry, Ron and Hermione knew exactly what the missions were for, and the added risk they were continually under, Luna couldn't imagine life any other way. It had become a part of Luna. A part which, she now knew, would stay with her through the rest of her life. Nobody struck Luna as thinking about things the way she did, but she didn't expect them to. Whether anyone else was aware of it or not, no two minds were identical. Luna knew though, and it was a fact that had lifted her during the worst of her school days.

Like that time an older Slytherin and his friends had tripped her while she carried an elaborate model of a werewolf she had built for her defence against the dark arts assignment. It had taken her six days, four of which she had slept few hours and barely ate. She had really enjoyed making the model, and had even more fun anticipating the well deserved grade she knew would have been awarded. Then, she tripped and watched as it fell to the floor, crushed under the foot of a howling Slytherin.

Luna had cried that night. But then reminded herself the boys had probably done it for their own amusement. At least she had given them that, even if it was at her own expense.

Luna was a part of something much more important than a school project now anyway. Most of the order were a part of it because they either _were _good people or fancied themselves admirable if they played the part of a good person. In the case of someone like Mundungus Fletcher, Luna expected the latter.

It was close to 5:00am when Luna concluded it was now officially too late to go back to sleep. She was wide awake, anyway, and realised, with delight, that she had not yet missed the sunrise. Luna always tried to catch it when she could, not for any sentimental reasons like young couples did but because Luna simply couldn't think of a more natural beauty in the world than the exchanging or light between night and day. She always caught the sunset, though did not do so religiously. She simply found herself with a perfect view no matter where she was.

Luna was fascinated by the change in things. In her wise eyes, nature bordered on magic itself; with little effort involved.

Some people saw the rise and setting sun as the end of one time and the start of something new. For Luna, though, nothing ever really ended; one just sort of let go of things, and they went. Letting go of the night meant giving fate the space to bring whatever it liked for the new day. Nothing could ever end in Luna's mind.

Ginny rolled over and scrunched her nose as Luna silently levitated her armchair to carry her to the window. There! She saw the first flames on the horizon. Luna opened the window the tiniest crack, so as not to disturb Ginny but yet still be able to feel the morning breeze. September mornings never seemed to be as warm as they used to—the goose pimples on Luna's arms told her. But Luna didn't mind the chill. It was like a cold drink: refreshing and often soothing. Just what Luna needed after that awful night's sleep.

She hoped it would be enough to urge her out of the thick, fuzzy blankets that she cuddled into, for breakfast. For now though, she planned to just watch the large spider making his final web of the year outside on the windowsill. After this one the winter air would compel the poor creature inside, perhaps under a creaking floorboard. Luna hoped he had earmuffs; the order could sure make up a loud riffraff when they liked, and the burrow would be busier than ever this winter since various relatives would be visiting the order for the holidays—in particular Xenophillius Lovegood.

Luna could not wait to see her father again. They wrote weekly, and he always sent her a copy of the quibbler which, as far as she knew, was still going very strong. More so lately, after a clever hint from Hermione, Xenophillius had made the magazine available under the cover of various household items. That way, to any death eater or follower of Voldemort, the magazine would appear to be nothing more than a harmless knickknack.

Apparently Lord Voldemort did not approve of the content associated with the quibbler; so her father had been forced to suspend printing it for a while. It was a shock to everyone when, after careful planning, Hermione devised the plan for people to receive their copy without alerting any undesirables. It made Luna smile that Voldemort was being outsmarted in ways even he would not suspect. Nobody would worry about a magazine, anyway, especially when it was one with such a famously odd reputation.

Luna always caught herself secretly beaming with pride whenever she saw someone walking down the street with a small sheet of loo roll stuffed under their arm. Hermione really was a very clever witch, as many people had already pointed out, but Hermione wasn't wise. It was rare for someone so young to understand the difference between the two, but Luna did.

She heard her alarm clock bleeping in an adaptation of the legendary Snorcack grunt. People everywhere would hear the beast but often mistook it for an old, wheezing vehicle on its last legs. They would still opt for this explanation even when, bizarre as it seemed, they were miles from the nearest road. It irked Luna that some people would never even try to accept things like the notorious beast. Luna took one last look out the window before untangling her legs from their criss-cross arrangement.

She made her way over to Ginny to wake her (the poor girl really was a nightmare with waking up), and she idly checked the date on the calendar on her way. It was September first, and there would be a new moon that night. A new moon at the start of a new month meant new beginnings and a new slate of good luck. Luna smiled. The order of the phoenix would be needing all the luck they could get.

* * *

The two women appeared in the room; he would have missed their arrival had he blinked at that very second. Both held wands readily at their sides. Three pairs of eyes met, each alike in their regret. It hadn't worked.

'Well, we're running out of options,' snarled Bellatrix at the man, '...and you said this would be it. You said this would work!'

'I never said it was guaranteed. I thought it would be though,' he said, standing. At his full height he towered over both women, muscles prominent through his shirt. Fenrir Greyback was intimidating in the extreme.

Narcissa Malfoy kept her eyes on him, her beautiful face lined with such precision that it seemed deliberate. In truth it was the consequence of several sleepless nights and months of worry. 'Fenrir, what can we do now?' She disguised her fear with accusation, and did it well.

'We'll discuss it later; though I honestly don't know yet. For now, though...' He turned as the clock on the mantelpiece began to chime—a subtle reminder that time was ticking on, never one to wait. One chime sounded. Fernir gestured to Bellatrix to do the 'honours'.

But she just stared at him with wild and clearly tired eyes; her darkened circles matched her sisters, though on Bella they just made her look mad. Comprehension came after a second's hesitation, and she knew to raise her wand. Needless to say it would be better to hear of their failure from them now than somebody else later; Bella suspected _he_ already knew, anyway.

Bellatrix extended her wand and pointed its tip on the tail of her mark.

Two. Three. Four.

The three waited with breaths held as one. From somewhere above the few remaining house elves could be heard scuttling around quickly to ready the beds for their sleepers. The clock chimed on as they waited.

Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve. The silent room appeared to contract with the tension that twisted every way inside it.

Finally a crack sounded as the three fell to their knees, Bellatrix with alarming haste. Lord Voldemort stood over her collapsed body and, with his wand, lifted her chin slowly. His eyes burned a dark fear into her soul, this one stare freezing Bellatrix's heart as her blood pumped colder.

'My lord, we failed,' she began hesitantly. Each word wisping through the cold air in the room, which had suddenly become impossibly quieter. 'They knew,' she whispered, her tone pleading for him to understand—something she had yet to see him do but so desperately hoped for.

'Of course they did, Bella. Maybe I should have been consulted first? Or did that logic magically slip your—uh, mind?' Voldemort's lips momentarily showed signs of amusement before pressing into a line so fine it could have been drawn on with a quill in one stroke.

Even the most loyal of followers needed to be reminded of their place occasionally. Bella tried to fool herself as she waited for the inevitable. 'Crucio,' he whispered, soft in such a sinister way that; for a moment at least, Bellatrix did not know where the pain had come from. Voldemort's pitiless expression gave it away soon enough. She twisted on the floor, her eyes ablaze with hatred, directed only at herself of course, as though it were Bellatrix who held the wand on her chest while it's curse leapt freely through her body. She could never hate her Lord no matter what pain he threw upon her. Narcissa and Greyback watched on; they could do nothing more, both knowing Bellatrix was taking in their punishments as well as her own right then.

It only lasted a moment, but the only real pain for Bellatrix came when he lowered his wand. Lord Voldemort swept from the room in a swift motion, gliding along the old floorboards as though he were walking on dark water. His disappointment did to her what nothing else could: it made her detest her very soul. Bellatrix turned to her sister, finding she was already helping her up. Greyback followed Voldemort out of the room without a glance at either woman.

'I don't understand what was so important about a—ah...' Narcissa moaned as Bellatrix's legs gave way and she began to fall down again. '—a silly old medallion.' Giving up on her sister for a moment, Narcissa waited for Bella to pull herself together on her own.

'Why question him now?' panted Bellatrix, dropping her head to rest on her knees. ' After all this time?'

'Because I'm starting to wonder why nobody has before,' she admitted with a defeated sigh as her own legs grew too heavy to stand on. Sinking next to her sister, she offered her hand which Bellatrix accepted wordlessly. Disregarding everything, evil, too, needed comfort sometimes, and the only person in the world Bellatrix dared ask for it was sitting right next to her. Bella turned her head slightly to gaze at her sister.

Lord Voldemort could never see any of his followers in such a meek, uncontrolled state of mind. The two stared at each other in silence. They were running out of options. And very quickly running out of time.


	2. Mirror me Bella

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

_Chapter Note: Keep a weather eye on the horizon. Some things in this one may be more important than you realise! Enjoy!_

* * *

From her untouched bowl of cereal, Luna's eyes rose to stare at Remus. She sensed discomfort and maybe even a spot of guilt eddying around his aura. Nobody else seemed to notice though; they were too busy shoveling toast and porridge into their mouths to pay much attention to anything. Luna saw it clear as day, and there was something strange about Tonks this morning too, and it was not her porcupine inspired hair-do, which flew around like a wave as she nodded in agreement with Lupin's whispered words.  
Remus kept shooting anxious glances toward Luna while Tonks regarded the others, unnoticed.  
Luna raised an eyebrow, she sensed whatever it was should not be spoken aloud to the others.  
Remus shook his head: 'Later,' he mouthed.

She nodded once, and then turned back to her cereal. Harry put down his coffee and rose.

'Right, tonight,' he began in an assertive tone, the well-mapped-out plan levitating in mid-air beside him. Luna called it a plan, but it was just a map of Diagon Alley, though it showed all entrances, and layouts of shops.

'—Neville, you'll announce us. Hermione, Ron, I don't want him to see you two if we can avoid it. Four death eaters should be enough to convince him we're the real deal.'  
Luna raised her hand; she liked to have questions answered before they left for their missions. In this case, one detail puzzled her.

'Harry, what if the real Malfoys come in while we're still in there? Or what if they're there already?'  
A few, namely Hermione and Ron, rolled their eyes. Everyone expected these kind of questions from Luna by now.

'It's unlikely, Luna,' sighed Harry impatiently.  
'But it's not guaranteed they won't be?' she asked, unfazed by his bluntness. 'Luna, we'll have Hermione and Ron waiting outside, any trouble and they'll warn us.' It was clear Luna would be met with an annoyed Harry should she question the plan further. Despite her better judgment, and a strange nagging feeling in her head, she let it go.

'Everyone got their hairs from our fight last week?' Hermione asked them, as though checking they had all remembered their homework.  
Half the group then each presented a small phial containing a single hair, each holding it to the light, probably doing final checks they had the right hair colour of their designated disguise. Luna's was long, dark and seriously knotty: Bellatrix. She had kept it safe in her sock for the last seven days. Neville's was one of the palest blonds Luna had ever seen: it practically matched her own. 'Malfoy' he mouthed to Luna, his face a mask of horror.

He had fought well that night, Luna remembered. Lucius Malfoy was old enough to be Neville's father and yet he had beaten the arrogant man after only a few moments of dueling. The death eaters left when they realised they were easily outnumbered, though Luna could not help wondering why they had come in the first place. They had obviously wanted something, but their determined faces told Luna they were not out for Order blood. Not that time, anyway. But if not that, then what? It had bothered Luna that the others didn't seem as worried. They were all just happy to have the hardest part of the plan over with. Snatching death eater hairs any other way would have been suicide.

Luckily for the Order, Fenrir Greyback took the loyalty of his werewolf tribe far too lightly, and it had been easy enough for Lupin to find out the Death Eater's next move. As a result, the Order had been ready to fight as their enemies barged down the door of the burrow. Luna worried what would happen when the day came for Lupin to prove his loyalty to Greyback. She preferred not to think about it.  
The attacking death eaters were each missing a hair or two now, though it had been done so skillfully they had not noticed. Those hairs were now each held in the air.

'Draco', muttered Harry, returning his own phial to his jacket pocket.  
Following his lead, Remus and Neville each announced who they would be transforming into.  
'Rodolphus,'  
'Lucius.'  
'Bellatrix', Luna sang, feeling Neville stiffen at the name. He made a vague sound in the back of his throat but said nothing.  
Hermione jumped in with: 'Pansy,' and Ron quietly muttered, 'Goyle'. He didn't look too impressed by his allotted death eater.  
Luna felt like her hand had been placed on top of the others in a pact of sorts: not unlike Ravenclaw used to do in the common room before a quidditch match. Only this time nobody yelled the chant: _'GO ORDER!'._

She reckoned they would all make quite an impression, all trundling into Borgin and Burks later that evening. Of course they would be going after dark, it would make them appear more threatening, which, Luna realised with a sinking feeling, was probably why Harry had planned an intrusion at such an hour. They were after the vanishing cabinet Draco Malfoy had used when Luna was in her fifth year at Hogwarts—the cabinet that had played a dreadful part in the death of Albus Dumbledore. All Harry had disclosed to the Order was that there was something powerful hidden somewhere in the school, and what with Severus Snape and the Carrows stationed within Hogwarts, it was just asking for trouble to go bounding up to the school gate, as Hermione had informed Luna when she had asked.

Luna was very curious about what it was they were after, but since none of the older members saw it fit to question Harry's secrecy, Luna decided neither should she.  
'Right, tonight then!' grinned Harry, happy to be back in the action. Things had quieted down over the last few days, and Luna could feel Harry's desire to be out there doing something, _anything_ other than waiting around under the protection of the Burrow. His passion seemed to infect everyone else as heartbeats started to beat faster in anticipation. Ginny, Molly and Luna were the exceptions: Molly hated the war, hated everything about it. Ginny was, again, being kept out of any immediate danger, which Luna could tell she absolutely hated. As for Luna, a small sparrow was circling the tree out in the garden, and, for now, it held the majority of her attention.

She only realised Harry had stopped talking when he sat down again, his hands on autopilot as they reached for more toast.

It was about twelve hours later, just after twilight, when the first part of the plan was set in motion.

Harry fastened his dark cloak around his neck. Everyone else followed suit. They were taking as few as possible: the less order members out in the open down Diagon alley the better.

They had only been able to take the hairs from the death eaters who had attacked them the previous week anyway, and so there was only enough for six to take the dreadful smelling potion Luna could smell bubbling away on the table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Neville and herself.

Molly was busy scooping it into the phials for them as the group that would be going tonight fastened their cloaks, all of which had been replicated after noting what each death eater had worn. Bellatrix's was a deep purple, which Luna loved. And although hers was clean and neatly cut, she imagined Bellatrix's would carry remnants form previous duels: perhaps a bloodstain over the breast that would pass for a badge, or a tattered hem posing as a deliberate fashion mistake.

'All ready?' asked Harry, from underneath a dark hood.

The party chorused a determined 'Yes' as their reply. All were ready.

'Harry, be careful,' warned Ginny, holding his hand. Her eyes had a scared tint whenever Harry left. It most likely came from his usual knack of walking into trouble with open arms. Luna did not worry for Harry; he would be alright. She just knew it.  
She whispered such to Ginny as she collected her potion from the table.

'I don't know, Luna. We're not exactly living in a harmless fairy world right now, are we?'

'No, I suppose not. But Harry's been in worse danger before. And besides,' Luna whispered, not looking at anything in particular, 'we're going after a cabinet. Borgin isn't renowned for his superb wizarding abilities is he?'

'No, Luna.' Ginny smiled, though it did not reach her eyes.

'And my socks match today!' Luna practically beamed, stowing her potion away for when they would arrive at Diagon alley.

Luna shot a glance over at the others when Ginny did not reply. 'If they match then we have luck on our side!'  
Ginny seemed to be fighting a strange cough. Harry's arm appeared around her shoulder though, before Luna could ask how she was.  
She averted her eyes as the couple kissed, feeling like she would spoil the moment.

'Hey, Luna,' Neville called over to her.

'What is it, Neville?' Luna asked.  
'I just wanted to ask if, well, you'd be all right not talking to me for a while,' Neville said. Seeing the hurt look on Luna's face, he rushed to finish, 'Oh no, just tonight, I mean.' Luna thought it over. She could feel her polyjuice swirling around inside her robes. Oh, Bellatrix, she realised.

'No, it's fine, Neville.'  
'I'm not saying you remind me of her, but you know,' Neville looked bothered at the thought, 'that will be hard to tell myself when you look just like her.' He sighed.  
From across the room, Luna could feel Remus eyeing the clock. He had such a passion when it came to timing. He planned things right down to the last minute. It probably came from a lifetime needing to avoid the full moon, monitoring his wolfsbane potion and working undercover with the werewolves for Dumbledore. It was what Luna guessed would must keep someone like him on his toes, resulting in a need to keep a close control over _something_. In Remus's case, the control was over time.

'Harry,' Remus called.  
He broke apart from Ginny to answer. 'Yeah, right, well—come on everyone.'  
Luna always apparated with someone. She hadn't quite mastered apparating on her own yet. Although she got the gist of it, you needed total concentration to pull it off, and for Luna that was easier said than done.

Luna held her hand out, waiting for someone to take it. Neville reached over almost instantly. Of all the people in the order, she was closest to Neville, even if Ginny was counted. The two just shared a similar outlook that none of the others did, and that was really all Luna would ever need from Neville. It had been suggested that they date, but neither had really considered it.

Sometimes friends were better.

'Don't let go,' Neville said, like always.

And, like always, Luna responded by placing her other hand over where theirs joined. If it helps him sleep better, Luna thought.  
The kitchen disappeared in a swirling, odious mass, taking with it the farewell-waves and good-luck-smiles of Ginny and the others.

Luna could not help questioning what would happen to a wizard who _did_let go during apparation. She had never paid attention to that part in their lessons.

Diagon Alley appeared in the place of the Burrow. Molly, Ginny and Arthur were replaced by a cobbled wall reaching high up, out of sight. Luna observed the sky, or at least what she could see of it.

'Luna,' Neville tugged her along. She was losing herself again—a fairly easy thing to do at night when the body is already preparing to dream. Luna believed the hours before bed somehow morphed into a sort of transition stage, in which the mind prepared to let itself bubble away in the hours before dawn.

They traveled the streets as though a magic guide led them on. Nobody could see much, but they knew the place well enough, and Harry, as always, marched on up front.  
'Harry, it's time,' Lupin said.

The group walked so close they would remind children of the five-headed woopanaga beast, stalking the dark streets in its eerie manner, ready to capture any wandering youngsters.  
'Everyone,' Harry instructed. Five arms drew out five almost identical potions. Luna heard Neville's flow down his throat before swallowing her own. The sensation was not unfamiliar to them anymore, since going practically anywhere in the wizarding world now meant disguises for the order. Harry, unfortunately, did not trust anyone.

Her hands bubbled with the potion as it spread through her blood, pounding through all it touched and changing everything. Leaving, in its wake, a much scarier person stood next to Neville Longbottom, or rather Lucius Malfoy, than there had been before. Luna, despite Neville's warning, could not help feeling bad for him as he sauntered over to Remus. All the while keeping his eyes averted from Bellatrix's double. Behind Draco, Lucius, Rodolphus, Pansy and Goyle, Luna fell in line. Peering around just to make sure no late night wanderers would see them. She doubted anyone would dare approach them, anyway, but the nagging feeling was prominent in her thoughts, and a strange fear was coiling itself up inside her trail of wonder.

'Next turning on the left,' Harry declared under his breath.

'Wands out?' asked Ron.

'No.'

'Why not? If Borgin has his out...'

'Ron, he's dealt with this group probably most of his life. He'll have seen their wands before.'

'Oh,' grumbled Ron, sounding, to Luna, very disappointed. She could no longer remember the last time he did not want to fight.

'We take ours out, and...' Harry began.

'Yeah I know. Plan ruined. I got it!'

The group pretended not to notice the squabble. In truth, Luna had been busy watching a large raven, anyway—her mind somewhere else entirely. As they turned, she thought she saw the dark bird follow in their direction, but it had flown off ahead of them when Luna looked back.

If, by any chance, a passerby should see them, Luna figured the determined frown on Harry's face would propel them onward, away from the path of the death-eater mini-mob.

As they marched down the final street, the sign for Borgin and Burke's became visible—at least as close to visible as possible in the murky darkness.

Harry banged a fist against the door three times, probably terrifying the poor man inside right down to his holey, woolen socks.  
Borgin answered the door with a nervous: 'Name?'

The group looked to Neville who, under the effects of the potion, was the main leader of the pack.  
The proud voice of Lucius responded with 'Malfoy!'  
Luna had never seen a door open so quick in her life, nor seen a man looking as utterly petrified as the old shop owner was.  
'Mr Malfoy? Oh and Draco too! All... here, are we?' Borgin tried to keep his voice steady; he was clearly scared of these people, and Luna felt a touch of guilt at having to do this to the poor man. Ron would have said they were not _doing_ anything.

Harry moved to stand next to Neville, who had now shuffled his way to the front. From over Remus's shoulder, the man caught a glimpse of Bellatrix's wild raven hair. He looked ready to sit down and let them do what they would to his forsaken store.

Harry nudged Neville, to whom he raised an eyebrow; then the latter glared at Borgin. If it had been n Neville's own face it would have looked downright ridiculous, but as Lucius...  
'Come in, come in! I'm afraid I wasn't expecting anyone tonight.' The small man stood aside, welcoming them inside.

All except Hermione and Ron, who stood pressed against the wall, entered. They would wait on the street and keep a sharp eye out. If anything went wrong, the others were to get out of there immediately.  
'We need the cabinet, Borgin. You still have it, yes?' Neville said, trying on his best impersonation. Luna stared around the shop. She had only been in once or twice before and both occasions had been with her father.

'The vanishing cabinet? You want it again?' The man looked puzzled.  
'Should I repeat myself?' Lucius looked moderately threatening now. Luna wondered why Harry had given Neville the task of the talking death-eater. He had never been the outgoing sort.

'I don't think it's in your best interests to be questioning _us_,Borgin,' Lupin muttered from behind Neville.  
'No, no, of course it wouldn't...' Borgin trailed away from them, his eyes growing distant.  
'Look Borgin, it's late. We'd appreciate it if you would just take us to the thing,' Lupin took a little control over things. Of course, Luna thought. Rodolphus would be the next threat after Lucius. It would make sense for Lupin to hurry him up.

Borgin excused himself and retreated behind a thick, brown curtain. It appeared, for a while, he would not return.  
The group stood closely, eyes all free to roam the contents of the store. If it had been labeled as 'suspicious' before, there was no doubt this store clearly specialised in dark artifacts now.

A much more confident looking Borgin reappeared: 'In here then.'  
Luna waited behind, captivated by a curious pendant shaped as a small moon. A waning crescent, Luna noted. She read the description:  
_Alternating lunar pendant, originally designed by muggle astronomer Galileo Galilei. With each new lunar passage this charmed silver moon will transform to match the local lunar state. Please note: this artifact is not the most reliable of means for the study of astrology. Note to werewolves: charm is made from silver. - B&B 1954_

Luna only stopped staring longingly at the thing when a sharp tap from the window made her look up. Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle gaped at her: both pointing to where the others had disappeared.  
'Luna!' mouthed Goyle.

She didn't rush but went to join the group behind the curtain nonetheless.

'...had no trouble with it yet. But if a Hogwarts student were to find the other—'  
'Shut up, Borgin,' Luna caught Draco Malfoy snapping. Borgin glared at him from behind the cabinet, though because of the odd angles, nobody else saw it.  
She would prefer it if she could stay quiet; the idea of Bellatrix's voice forming her words was a little unappealing to say the least.  
'We'll be needing to use this tonight. Have you added any charms to it?'  
'No. I haven't, Ms. Lestrange,' said Borgin. Lupin nodded—it was one potential problem they had now eliminated.

'Good.' Lupin smirked.

'You're welcome to test it, if you think it's necessary.' Borgin moved around the cabinet, looking, if Luna was not mistaken, slightly mad. Not in an angry sense either. He just looked as though he'd left his mind on the other side of the curtain, and, Luna noticed, his eyes no longer held any remote sign of fear. They were so glazed that she couldn't decide whether or not he'd been possessed. The others were too busy examining the vanishing cabinet to listen to her. She watched Borgin closely, half expecting him to jump into a dance routine any moment.

'I think that's a good idea. One moment though, if you would.' Borgin staggered backwards at once.

'Go get the others,' Harry said to Luna.

She nodded distantly and drifted out, retracing her steps to the door, opening it and motioning for Pansy and Goyle to hands; at that Luna smiled.

Quietly, she said to Hermione, 'We're in. Borgin thinks we're testing it. I don't think he has his wand, so if you're ready...' Hermione nodded, her hand letting go of Ron's as she held her wand out.

'Borgin, I think we'll need the key,' Luna heard a deep voice say.

'Yes. Of course.' A slight shuffling, then Luna heard Lucius give the go-ahead.

'Hand it here, Borgin,'

A quiet clinking, and then Luna pictured a hand closing around a small key, shaped, if the key-hole had been anything to go by, like a magnifying glass.

She pulled the curtain open, and Hermione aimed her wand right at Borgin.

'Stupefy!' Hermione's jinx hit its target. Borgin fell to the floor, looking like a cardboard cut-out that had been pushed over.

'Come on then,' motioned Harry, gesturing inside the now unlocked, and open, cabinet.

They scrambled in, the shadows inside engulfing each in turn, until the only two left, Remus and Luna, smiled bravely at each other.

'How long until it wears off?' Luna asked

'Forty one minutes. We'll do fine. Harry seems to know exactly where he wants to go when we arrive. I wouldn't worry,' he said.

'Yes, you'll be okay.'

'We all will, you mean.'

'Hmm? Oh yes.' Luna stared into the space they were about to walk into.

'By the way, Luna,' said Remus, checking behind himself, into the cabinet, for the others. 'Tonks and myself are going to look into what you said earlier. About the Death Eaters mission?' He stared at Luna with a look that told her she was to keep this to herself.

Luna did not like keeping secrets from the others, but, in this case, she could see why it was called for. It would be best not to press her concerns about the newspaper clippings anymore, until they had something solid to go on. Otherwise, the order would probably start thinking she was loony again. That was not a reputation Luna missed; even if it had never bothered her, personally, it could change how people saw her.

She did not like to be seen as something she wasn't.

She nodded at Remus: _Okay_.

'Good, off we go then!' He grinned, and it made his face appear much younger.

His body swayed in the darkness as the charm of the cabinet worked it's magic; in just a few steps, Remus would hardly be seen at all.

'Oh no, Luna, did you lock the door?' a distant voice called.

'No, I'll get it, you go on.' She assumed he did, for a second later Luna could feel herself all alone in the shop.

She pointed her wand at the lamps, causing them to dim, though not go out completely. She kept the door key with her after she had locked it and rechecked. Just be sure, Luna, she told herself_._

It was not until she drew the curtain to conceal the hidden area of the shop that she sensed something might not be right.

For starters, she could not see Borgin anywhere, and, surely a mirror that tall she would have noticed earlier...wouldn't she?

Her mirror image sneered at her. Bellatrix sure had a face made for the expression. It just seemed to suit her, not many people could get away with it without looking insane. Bellatrix could. Luna supposed it was because she already was insane; therefore what more harm could a simple expression do?

But that's what puzzled Luna—was this a magic mirror? For she certainly was not sneering.

The mirror Bellatrix, whose arm was hidden behind her back, pulled out something that Luna had to squint to see in the darkness.

He was as stiff as cardboard and looked totally out of it. Like a befuddled child, Borgin's dazed eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking.

Luna realised too late that the cursed Borgin had been the one who had reappeared from behind the curtain. She had known. Luna had _known_ and not said a word.

She raised her eyes from the Imperio-cursed man to the black, and very insane, eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange.

From behind the cabinet, emerged a laughing form. Squinting more, Luna recognised Pansy Parkinson as she walked to stand by Bellatrix.

'What do you reckon?' breathed Bellatrix.

'A bad knock-off. Totally unoriginal,' Pansy laughed. 'Guess they just don't make polyjuice like they used to,'

Pansy Parkinson looked straight at Luna.

It was not Hermione.

Bellatrix pointed her wand, and Luna realised she had dropped her own in shock.

She had not entered the cabinet again, but darkness came as Luna knew it would have if she had. The last thing she heard was the dark ring of Bellatrix's laugh, which continued to echo through her head again and again as she fell to the floor. On her knees, Luna felt it happen.

Darkness reminded Luna of a bird descending on it's prey. Upon Luna, descended a Raven.

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A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading!


	3. A Spider's Web

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

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...I see' said the werewolf. 'And the Dark Lord knows already, I assume?'

Bellatrix glared her sharp eyes at him.

'Greyback, unlike you I do not repeat mistakes!'

'How was I supposed to know she was a Slytherin! I'm not psychic Bella! Anyway she was the worst one going, starting a charity of Mudblood victims! Idiot, that's what she was. Asking for it, if you ask me,' He yelled back

'The dark lord does not appreciate a waste of magical blood. Even I manage to restrain myself for him,'

'You'd do anything.' Greyback snapped

The two squared up, Luna's back being kicked carelessly. Although it was that which probably woke her, she didn't give it away. She could not feel her wand: _'It must still be on the floor,' _Luna thought, hoping she was not right. Being unarmed would not help at all.

Too add more to her mounting worry, she felt her potion wearing off. Her blood felt warmer, as though it were now being pumped by a kind heart. One which had not murdered and tortured hundreds.

Luna froze, keeping her breathing as low as possible. First she needed to know where she was, and why she was not sneaking around Hogwarts castle with the others. In fact, Luna thought, they had probably already finished their business and were back on their way to the shop.

They would be expecting to see a typically distracted Luna looking at them with an expression that would say, _'what, were we supposed to go in?'_

She wondered what they would do, would they come for her? Or better, were they already racing back to headquarters now? Luna hoped so.

'But why bring her back here? Why not just kill the girl already?' Greyback was standing right over her now, Luna could practically hear his breath as he moved in towards Bellatrix.

'You dare question me?' that was just how Neville sounded, Luna noticed with a hint of pride. The order had pulled off quite an impersonation.

'I'm curious. Forgive me Bella, you find yourself wondering things when you spend your days crouched at the dark lord's feet!' Greyback's skin seemed to be hotting up, Luna could feel him near her. That man gave a whole new meaning to the phrase 'heated argument'.

'Questions.' Bellatrix replied after a moment's pause. It made no sense to Luna but was enough for Fenrir who backed away again.

'So you and Pansy see this as a long term thing do you?' the werewolf smelled of an earth scent that reminded Luna of very damp wood.

'If she's good, then why not?' Bellatrix sounded proud; she clearly wanted Fenrir to question her plan further, just so she could show it off. What 'it' was though, remained a mystery to Luna. She lay sprawled on the floor like a spider with broken legs: tangled and helpless.

She prayed Bellatrix would eleborate further, which she did.

'Snape's no good to him in that area anymore. The dark lord will need a replacement and this ones got a pretty low-key role in the order I reckon. Practically kept her mouth shut in the shop, and she was way behind the others when they went in. They left her behind too!' she said

The atmosphere in the room shifted to a mood Luna couldn't recognise. Too dark for calm but not quite bad enough to be uncomfortable.

'There's less chance she'll be missed.' Luna felt a finger elongate, and point down at her.

_The dark lord needed a replacement what?_

The two sets of dark eyes did not see the plea for more information on Luna's face: her long hair covered it.

Fenrir was moving around, probably circling Luna. She supposed the shadows moving through her eyelids belonged to Fenrir and Bellatrix anyway: she had not heard anyone else speak yet and took it that the three of them were alone.

'Know which one you've got then?'

'No. But it'll be easy enough to find out!' said Bellatrix

'What, ask her?' Fenrir guessed

'No she'll lie. But I'm sure Draco will recognise her from school. He'll know.' Bellatrix sounded confident he would, while Luna only wished he wouldn't.

Luna's head hurt, a lot, from where she'd hit the floor. She had been so careful in keeping still that she hadn't noticed at first. But now a feeling of nausea was imminent and Luna hoped they'd stop raising their voices; it was only making her head worse.

She reached out a hand to her scalp, which massaged it in smallish circles: '_soothe away the pain_,' she mused.

Forgetting who stood above her, Luna wondered who had pointed a wand into her chest, but the ragged breathing and long scatty hair that fell in her face told her it was Bellatrix. She opened her eyes to look at her but found the sudden exposure to light, emitted from the wand's tip, stung them: a spell was forming.

'You stayed behind, on your own. You stupid girl!' Bellatrix taunted, a crazy eye widening (her hair obscuered the left side of her face), though, if she could have seen it, Luna was pretty sure the left eye would have been just as wide and just as mad.

'I've not got my wand,' said Luna casually: as though she had been asked her opinion on the weather.

'Excuse...me?' the death eater snarled in her face.

'I've not got my wand,' replied Luna again, though she knew Bellatrix had heard the first time.

The woman snorted, glancing down at Luna's hands.

Fenrir laughed mockingly: 'You don't say Blondie!'

Well, she figured, she was already in trouble so why not play it out?

'What I meant was, I would appreciate it if you would lower your wand. Since I clearly won't try anything funny, you know.' Luna could hope.

Bellatrix regarded her for a second, if that; Luna was getting the impression this was a witch who would act on impulse very quickly, never leaving time to think things through. She seemed so jittery and frantic, like a small animal loaded up on caffeine.

Luna lost herself deciding what sort of animal Bellatrix would suit (her wild hair said an arachnid of some sort, while her poise and temper said a jaguar or sphinx). Her mind occupied elsewhere, Luna was oblivious to the jinx as it shot through the air.

Luna was somewhat confused when the world suddenly stood on its head.

Bellatrix, wand pointed at her temple now, panted heavily below Luna, who could almost feel the strange tickle from it's tip. The two death eaters looked up at her.

Greyback looked back and forth between them before skulking off into the shadows. Bellatrix did not watch him go, her eyes were locked on Luna's hair as it swung back and forth. Luna feared she may be contemplating eating it: to Bellatrix it would probably look like discoloured spaghetti.

'Know where you are?' she said to Luna

'No. But we haven't left the country.' Luna looked over at the window, it was small and far away but open; and from it she could see the full moon in the same position it had been as she had entered Borgin and Burkes.

'Oh?' Bellatrix pretended to look extremely interested, but it was obvious to Luna she was only playing.

'Hmmm? Oh, it's the moon you see...' Luna trailed off her unfinished sentence in a way only she could: anyone else would look like a lost idiot.

'He'll be proud of me you know! The others said not to bother with the order anymore. They said you lot haven't got a hope anyway. But with Pansy in there...Oh if they try anything, if they even start to clue in on what we're up to!' Luna listened intently, though pretended not to be. She stored everything she heard away, into a small part of her mind she reserved for the order. She didn't know why though: it seemed unlikely she would make it through one night here. Or maybe not even the rest of this night. Luna wondered if she had just seen her last sunset or was about to see her last sunrise.

'Oh but you won't think you need to worry, will you? I bet you think your precious order's on their way?'

The woman let out such a horrible shriek of a laugh that Luna could actually hear it being sketched into her memory, where she knew her subconscious would pull it out from later to worsen her nightmares.

She didn't stop after a minute either, she was truly insane. Meanwhile Luna wondered whether the order would make it in time: she knew they would come, but when? They could easily be too late.

'Oh, you think they'll come, you'll be all-' Bellatrix looked like she was having a seizure. ''you think-oh!' she howled on. Luna had heard some very unfunny jokes in her time at Hogwarts, but this was something else.

'You think you'll be alright!' Luna felt like she'd arrived late at the party. Bellatrix seemed drunk and Luna was dragging a mile or two behind sober. She really enjoyed butterbeer and firewhisky, but neither had ever succeeding in changing anything about her behaviour other than the fact that she nearly always managed to develop severe hiccups.

Bellatrix howled on.

Luna was starting to think she'd never stop, when she suddenly looked up at her from beneath a mass of black widow curls. ('_A spider-'_ thought Luna_ 'Bellatrix would make a really lovely spider.'_) Her expression, or what Luna could see of it, became that of a territorial lioness as others came into the room. The room which, Luna now registered, was a dungeon.

Luna tried to swizzle around (a difficult feat when you're dangling upside down in mid-air). She could not see anyone but recognised the first voice almost instantly.

'What's she doing here?'

'Draco, who is she?'

'Draco?' Bellatrix chimed in. Luna saw her gesturing for him to come forward.

Luna recognised the voice of Draco Malfoy and it was as cold and slippery as ever. The second sounded like a woman. It reminded her of Molly Weasley: the same weary tone seemed to hover over every word.

'Know her?' said Bellatrix

'Lovegood I think.' said Draco. It was hopeless now, her identity was as good as gone. Though Luna would hold onto it for as long as she could, she turned her face away from the group below her. Covered by a dark mask of shadows, Luna felt a final moment of safety.

But a hand was quick to snap her head back around. It gripped onto her long hair and, with unnecessary roughness, forced her to face the glow of the moonlight. Moonlight which suddenly fell into the room with a sudden burst of brightness. Luna stared helplessly into a pair of grey eyes hidden beneath blond hair that almost matched hers in it's paleness.

Draco regarded her for the time it took Luna's heart to resume it's regular pace. He knew her, she could see him decide it.

He turned behind him to a tall woman. 'Luna Lovegood,' he said simply. And so it was, Luna's last hold over herself was ripped up like parchment.

'The one from the ministry?' Bellatrix smiled darkly.

'Yes.' Draco released Luna's hair.

So many eyes stared at her now that she found it easy to pretend she was back in school again; remarking how wrong her divination teacher was in her latest crystal ball reading, as the class stared on with amusement.

'What now Bella?' the other woman asked

'We're keeping her here. Pansy might need information.' Bellatrix seemed almost ecstatic at the idea of extracting such information.

'How much potion has she got with her?'

'Enough. If she needs more we already have Snape on it. He says what she's taken should last a month. He's found a way to modify it though, a more concentrated dose he said.'

It was starting to dawn on Luna what they were talking about.

'And how is Pansy going to contact us?'

Luna watched Draco shift backwards into the shadows, a darker figure stood by him: she assumed that was Greyback.

'I'll take care of it.' said Bellatrix

'Oh,' the woman said no more. She glided from the room, scooping Draco by the arm on her way.

'Bella?' she called back as they were about to leave, 'watch over Pansy.'

And then they were gone.

Bellatrix threw Luna a pointed look.

'No one is going to come looking for you, little Lovegood,' Bellatrix swept from the room, releasing the spell that held Luna aloft. She came crashing back to earth with a smacking crack. Lifting her hand to her head she finally felt the full force of her earlier collision: Smallish circles, it appeared, were no longer enough to soothe it away.

Greyback crept slowly over to Luna.

He leaned his head back and looked down at her, sprawled on the floor. Her arm twisted at a strange angle, though it was not broken, and the tassels on her black robes had tangled together into something resembling a dead spider.

Greyback's look turned cool. From his wand burst a thick metal chain that tinkled softly as it snapped shut around her wrists and ankles, chaining her where she lay. Luna did not look at him, though she could feel his eyes on her. She imagined if he were to describe her now only one word would spring to his warped mind: Edible.

A low growl formed in his throat before he quickly left the room, bolting the door shut on his way.

'Sweet dreams Blondie!' he snarled through a tiny metal grid; Luna foresaw it serving as her means of communication with people.

Greyback's heavy footsteps reverberated back through the stone dungeon, pounding angrily against the walls and against Luna's skull. She was sure it was not normal for a man to be that loud.

Luna scanned her prison with a sad heart. Pansy Parkinson had taken her place at the order, that much she had gathered, and she would serve as the death eaters own spy there. Luna felt her head ache again as her hands shook. She would not be rescued: that thought alone was probably what sent her into a horrible nightmare-filled sleep.

After all, why would the order go looking for something they hadn't lost.

It was not funny, but Luna understood why Bellatrix had laughed.

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A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Draco Laughed

Disclaimer: _I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

_Special thanks to reviewers: xxkpxx, stupid little emo hippie girls, Nako-Chan and je suis l.m!. Also a huge thank you to je suis l.m for her beta work on this chapter! Enjoy!_

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Luna hummed quietly while she chewed her tongue and studied the ceiling. She didn't really know the words to whatever it was she sang, but it had a smooth, swaying tune that made her want to ride a magic carpet and flutter through the air.

She measured the distance from the floor to the window with her eyes; deeming that she would need to grow about seventy inches or so to reach it.

If she assumed she had not slept more than twenty four hours, then it was now Thursday afternoon.

One night in this room and Luna was already bored, which wasn't so surprising when you looked at what there was to do in it. She had no bed, and the hard floor had not taken it easy on her neck. Her muscles felt like they had been twisted up into origami and left in those uncomfortable poses to set for an art project. Her every move made her body ache, so for a while she decided to sit still.

Then the humming had started and, for the most part of the day, it did not stop.

A bird perched on the thin rim of the window above Luna's head. It was an Autumn Swallow—Luna recognised it's tell-tale pointed wings. It looked down at Luna in the dungeon as though trying to work out why she had not flown away from her prison yet.

'No wings,' Luna lifted her arms and smiled sadly at the bird. 'See?' she sang to it. Together they shared a few moments of peace, in which Luna fancied herself switching places with the young Swallow. It would be migrating any day now, in fact it was late, she realised. Would he be flying over the Atlantic to visit his Francais friends? Luna had always liked France: all those flat little hats with bobbles and that lovely language. The words just melted together into a smooth mixture of chic and caring tones. The bird would not speak French, but at least it could hear the muggles and wizards speak it in their fluent tongues. If only they could switch, Luna would trade her long hair and limbs for feathers and small beak, which she would use to sing soft melodies. If she could, Luna would soar high, up and away, and she would not look back, at anything.

But Luna had a conscience, and it would not let her even think that thought for long. For switching would mean binding the bird to whatever punishment Luna was about to receive for being so foolish. She had never realised how true Harry's words had been: 'We stay together.' He had always said it, it was his own little catchphrase in Luna's mind.

The bird flapped his wings, said farewell to the prisoner in the cell, and flew away. With it gone, Luna was bored again and was quickly running out of her favourite tunes. She'd sung all of them more than a couple of times each, and they were all quite lengthy.

She heard the footsteps first, since everything was so loud down there, and then there came a gentle clink as the bolt outside her door was unlocked.

'Lovegood?' Draco Malfoy stepped sideways into the room, looking as though he had expected to be pounced on by a wild girl by now. He found her quickly enough; it wasn't as though there had been anywhere for her to hide, and then began making a clicking noise with his tongue.

Luna supposed he was here to kill her now; she was surprised she'd lasted the night. 'Well, you planning on just sitting there, are you?' A confused Luna stared up with unfocused eyes, for he had not asked her to go anywhere had he? Maybe she was supposed to interpret him being there as enough reason to be on her feet, ready to go wherever she was bid to.

When Draco realised she had no intention of speaking he stormed over and jerked her to her feet, shoving her along in front of him.

'Get moving Loony!' His wand was sharp, and it dug in her back. Luna started to walk—best to do as she was told; she figured he was not in such a friendly mood—but she soon fell over, her metal chains locking her to the stone floor.

She felt her knees throb with the impact but did not wince at it. What made her squirm was the rude laugh coming from behind.

The sound seemed to manifest itself from her memory, as though it had been stored there long ago, waiting for the next time it was needed to play in Luna's ears. She decided Draco really had a nasty sense of humor.

'Here.' From his wand burst a thin wisp of silver that unlocked the chains. The ones that had enclosed around her ankles fell to the floor but her wrists remained bound. Draco held the end of the metal links in his hand, while the other redirected his wand towards Luna. She walked forward, feeling like an animal on a leash. Draco's face tightened, as did his hold on her, as they turned into a badly lit corridor that stretched on for quite a while.

'Be smart Lovegood. Don't do anything stupid,' he muttered. She would have replied but could think of nothing to reply with; it was more than obvious she wouldn't try anything stupid—she didn't even have her wand.

Not to mention she was probably in a place that was infested with the Dark Lord's buddies; Luna thought of Death Eaters like that, though she knew Voldemort probably didn't have any such thing like a friend. Draco tugged, and she followed him into a huge white space. It was not that bright really, but to Luna's sensitive eyes it was like staring straight at a concentrated dose of sunlight. She squinted to make out where she was now.

The tall thing in the middle of the room could have been a chair, Luna wasn't sure. She blinked a few more times than usual to readjust her eyesight.

'Lovegood,' Draco whispered in her ear, low enough that she could barely hear him, 'sit. Keep your mouth shut until you're spoken to, and—' She never heard the final order, for a huge door across from her burst open, slamming heavily into the wall.

Luna watched as Bellatrix Lestrange swept into the light, followed by a bunch of people whom Luna did not recognise, except one man who was equal in height, build, paleness, and sheer arrogance to his son.

Lucius Malfoy held the other woman, from the night before, by the shoulders. He seemed to be protecting her, though Luna could not imagine from what. She felt Draco's wand dig deeper.

From it, came a sort of warm force that pushed Luna towards the chair. She looked back at Draco as he mouthed 'sit' to her.

A circle had formed around Luna without her realising it. Bellatrix stood apart from the others, her chest heaving up and down and her crazed hair reaching for the ceiling like poisonous ivy. She stared into Luna's eyes.

'I think it's time you told us what you know.' She looked ravenous for Luna's knowledge.

Luna knew she would have to confess all that she knew, or rather the lack of it, but for now she could buy more time. Perhaps in the few seconds she could stall, Pansy would accidentally knock over her stock of polyjuice, sending it slipping away, all over the table.

Then the order would demand to know of Luna's whereabouts , Pansy would see how outnumbered she was, and they would come for Luna. Luna hated kidding herself so desperately, but right now it was all her mind would let her do. She could only think, 'What if...' She twined her fingers in her lap and a slowness came over her voice as she replied,

'All I know? Well, from the beginning, my mum had a natural birth; I think I weighed around five pounds. Which is strange because my mum ate a lot during her pregnancy—she was always worried I'd be born with no appetite, so five pounds really seemed small to her and my dad. She had a craving for lemon curd too, which probably explains why I turned out blonde: all the egg yolks, you know. I actually don't like lemons as much as you would think. They are all right for drinks and things like that, but I mean I could never just eat a Lemon. My mum would, though, you know. It's really odd though because—' Animalistic growls from a few death eaters stopped her there.

Luna heard about seven eyes suddenly pop from staying so wide. She so desperately wanted to go on, but rather enjoyed waiting for their reaction.

When none came she couldn't help wondering, 'Can I please go home now?'

Draco and the woman, whom Luna could now tell was clearly his mother (the resemblance was lovely), looked like they had just swallowed something that should never have been on their plate. Meanwhile Bellatrix, gathering her sense of reality, began that horrible laugh again, only, Luna noticed, it was a much more diluted version.

She supposed it was the amount of people in the room; things are never as scary when there are numbers. Luna's reply had been innocent enough, but, she started to think, she probably couldn't afford to be innocent right now. Between horrible laughs, Bellatrix managed to roar out 'Cru-Cru-Crucio!' Luna had sensed it coming first, then she felt the curse and, after that, she really felt it. Suddenly Luna's body seemed to control everything in her head, or rather the pain stabbing every part of it did. It was like being twisted into a small ball and shot at with white-hot flames.

Her muscles clicked and cramped; even her heart fled for cover beneath her ribs. She could feel every cell scream for mercy, though none of theirs could match her own.

'Stop! STOP! Please.' Her cries filled the bright room. 'Please Please Please Please!' Luna had never begged for anything in her life, but now it was all she could do. Bellatrix pulled her wand higher in the air, dragging Luna upwards from the floor where she had collapsed.

'I'll kill you, little Luna. I'll kill you!' sang Bellatrix cheerfully, as though wishing Luna a happy birthday.

'Please!' Luna screamed, tossing like a rag doll in the air to match the movements of Bellatrix's wand.

Luna could not understand why she was not dead. Surely humans were not capable of suffering this badly without there being some relief. Bellatrix gave her one last hateful dose before lowering her wand, taking with it the beast that had practically tore Luna's body to shreds.

Eyes closed, seeing nothing but blankness beyond her lids, Luna attempted to push herself off the floor. She was on her knees when her tormentor swept behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair and using it to jerk Luna's head back. Luna's body froze.

'Sorry dear,' whispered Bellatrix. 'Did you say something?' She pulled Luna back further so that she looked straight up.

Luna shook her head: no.

It was hard to find a reason to stay still, Luna was panicking like she never had before. She could see a door beyond the doorway the death eaters had come through. It could be the exit. It could be her exit.

'Now, what were you asked again? Oh, yes...' A thin wand tip poked Luna's neck; she knew she would have a small bruise there later. 'What do you know?' Luna's head burned.

'Nothing.' Bellatrix, strangely enough, seemed please by this. 'Wrong answer, Missy!' Her next curse was let loose on Luna. It met its target with full force. 'Now, let's try this again.'

'No no no no, Please!' Luna cried, though she already knew her plea would be met with closed ears. She moaned, sobbed and screamed beneath Bellatrix. It was strange, she couldn't remember falling to the floor again. Bellatrix just kept scooping her up by her long locks again and again. Proud to display Luna's agony to an audience.

The others watched on, each face painted a different shade of interest. Luna felt sick, even when Bellatrix lowered her wand for a third time. She couldn't understand; what did the woman expect Luna to say?

'Why did they need the cabinet?'

'Hogwarts—' panted Luna, '—Harry wanted to get into Hogwarts.'

'Why?'

Luna hesitated, and it was enough to earn her fourth blast of torture.

'Why?' Bellatrix shrieked

'I don't know, I don't know!'

'Liar!' Luna knew the fifth blast would finish her. It had to, surviving seemed an impossibility right then.

'I wasn't told! None of us knew. Even Ginny, Neville, Molly, Arthur—nobody knew, I swear!'

'Get me Severus. We'll see how secretive she is with his veritaserum down her throat!' Bellatrix released her hair with a final tug, and Luna felt the hard wood beneath her knees with a sudden coolness.

Then her palms lay flat against it as she caught her breath. Her cheek touched the coolness, and she relished in it. Like a cool drink... she mused.

'No, Bella.' Narcissa Malfoy moved to stand by her sister. Luna had heard Harry mention Draco's mother a few times, and she had always liked her name; though after such a comment earned her a glare gift from everyone else, Luna had not mentioned it again. Not out of shame; she just did not want to disturb the well earned peace within the order that had been worked for.

'I think she's telling us the truth.'

'Yes of course,' Bellatrix squealed with delight. 'She worked for the order, and she's going to come pouring the truth out to us. Of course!'

'Bella.' Narcissa seemed to give up quickly.

She moved away, back to Draco. He regarded his mother with something Luna couldn't quite catch from her position at someone's feet, where Bellatrix had left her.

Luna couldn't move her head to see who it was, but, from the sweaty, bloody smell, she sensed it would be Greyback.

'Greyback...' Narcissa prompted. Luna had guessed right. The werewolf bent low. Squatting next to Luna, he cupped her chin, grazing the pale skin beneath her jaw with long, jagged nails. His eyes flickered back and forth between Luna's, checking the size of her pupils.

'She's fine.' he breathed, his hot words clinging to Luna's skin as roughly as his nails had scratched. Luna smelled murder on his words. In fact, she thought they reeked of it.

Greyback stood behind her and picked her up, sitting her back down in the chair. Luna stared around the room; her eyes prayed for help. Though she knew she would not find any here. A small thing did comfort her though, when her eyes found the closest death eater to her.

Draco stared down, seeming to the others, Luna understood, to be losing himself in the pattern on his shoes (they were plain black). To her though, it was quite clear Draco did not have the stomach for torture. His mouth was what gave it away: he looked like he was fighting the urge to throw up. Luna wanted to ask him why he didn't speak up, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

For some reason she was starting to feel like anything that came out of her mouth would, in the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, befit punishment. Luna stared at her hands; each traced small circles into the others palm—taking turns of course.

'Bellatrix?' A slippery male voice found it's way into the room.

It appeared to do so before the sullen looking man, to whom it belonged, entered.

'Now. I want answers, Snape, and she won't give me them.' Bellatrix pointed at Luna's tired form that now lolled sleepily on the chair. Snape looked over to where she pointed.

'You sure go through some victims, Bella. She's not been here over a day and already looks like she's ready to go.' Luna knew he did not mean 'go home'.

'I barely touched her! She's just so weak; it's pathetic really.'

Snape moved quickly over to Luna, he pushed her lips apart and slid a liquid down her throat. It had no colour, and no taste.

Luna's first thought was veritaserum, but she did not feel any more desire to talk than she had before, and she certainly felt no need to spill pure truth.

She glanced up at Snape and found his eyes had shrunken to pebbles, ones which told her to be quiet. Luna was puzzled at what he had given her. Surely not poison...

'Harry Potter planned to raid Hogwarts castle yesterday evening,' Snape said. 'What was he seeking there?'

Luna waited for the potion to kick in.

'I don't know. I mean, I've already told you! All I ever knew was that Harry was looking for something. That's all I have.'

Luna hoped it would be enough to save her life.

A whisper of the past came back to her: a memory as such, in which she had found Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled around a table reading a book entitled _Ravenclaw: a Tale of Wisdom_. It had been a book on the house's entire history. Luna knew ones existed for Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff too, but she had only caught them reading her house's. It had never seemed of much importance, until a few weeks ago when Harry and herself had sat down to have a long, lengthy and, seemingly to Luna, pointless discussion about Ravenclaw. He'd been so immersed in everything she had said, that Luna had questioned how much attention he normally paid her. If that was full throttle then Luna must only normally receive the tiniest of percentages of his full interest.

'I think it was something from Ravenclaw. I mean I think that's where he went, you know? To Ravenclaw tower.'

Snape wanted more, she could see it; although, if she looked close enough, she could also see that he seemed fearful of what she might reveal. Perhaps even the tiniest of details would prove to the Death Eaters they were going to lose this war. She hoped Harry knew what he was doing, whatever it was.

'And what might have caught his interest there?' Snape pressed. 'There's nothing of importance to the order up there. If that's where he was going, I don't know why.'

'Liar,' hissed Bellatrix with disgust.

'Oh? Yes, I suppose it must be the veritaserum. It does have that effect on people...' Snape sounded sarcastic.

Luna remembered that tone well from years of having Snape as a potions professor. _'Yes, Miss Lovegood, your father's magazine must be much more accurate than a millennia of wizarding accounts.' _

'Oh no, Miss Lovegood, we wouldn't want to upset the congregation of Snorcacks with our terrible potion making would we?'

__

'Miss Lovegood, are you incapable of holding one sane belief based on factual evidence, or do you simply enjoy sharing your clearly invented stories with the class?'

Luna always got the impression Severus Snape did not appreciate her input with potions much. That as it was, it was never her favourite subject anyway, so she didn't mind. She much preferred subjects where a dozen waving and swooshing wands would create fantastical spells and illusions. Potions seemed so grounded and monotonous, like cooking, or so Luna had always thought.

'She could have the antidote—'

'—Bella, do you not think we would have all seen her take it?'

'Shut up, Severus.'

'Don't be bitter, Bella. Just because you thought you'd be able to go running to the dark lord with all your precious information, does not make the rest of us any more loyal.'

Bellatrix looked like a child with no bottle to sip from. Luna expected her to blow up any instant.

'Bella, you haven't told him we know anything have you?' Rodolphus Lestrange piped up from somewhere close to Luna. She looked around for him.

Remus was a much nicer version. This one had evil spelled in both his eyes. Well, Luna did believe eyes were the window to the soul. Luna heard Narcissa whisper something to her son, who then blinked once as his reply. Draco stood behind Luna, pulling her hands together as he gripped the chain again. She took it as her queue to stand and did not look at anyone as she was led out. The door slammed shut behind them, Draco pulling her along again before she could adjust to the lighting of the long corridor. It felt like walking down an empty road for miles, though it must have been a brisk walk, because they were descending into the dungeons again before Luna noticed much else about the house other than the fact that as little light seemed to enter the old building as possible.

Luna supposed there were no plants in the house at all.

On their way back down, Draco glanced back at Luna, who was busy inspecting this new ceiling. She wanted to take everything in, for soon enough she would be back in that horrible little room with nothing to look at but the walls (she had already over-analysed every inch of them anyway). The window was tiny, far up, and the sun only passed over it for a short while and that had already been this morning. Until the moon rose, Luna had only the blue sky and, as though the elements suddenly did not want her to have any distractions at all, there were no clouds that day. Luna did not noticed the steps. She stumbled over the first step and flew straight down, crashing into Draco first, of course. He steadied himself and stopped her falling down further (Luna noticed it would have been a far fall) by holding her up with the chain. Luna was strangely happy she had been shackled.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Lovegood!' Draco spat at her, resuming their slow walk down.

'Sorry,' said Luna, her hands shaking again. Was it normal for a house to be this cold in September? She did not think so.

'Twice in one day? You've got a problem.'

'That wasn't my fault earlier. I thought you'd unlocked the handcuffs.' Draco laughed the same as he had earlier. It was not friendly and made Luna feel strange.

'Get in there,' he said once they had reached her cell.

He opened the door and pushed her in with his wand. He seemed afraid to make any real contact, as though skin that did not continually freeze was dangerous to someone who's did. Luna could tell Draco was cold. In more than one way, but right now she meant his body.

His pale skin seemed to claw at the sharp bones beneath: it was so thin and cuddled into his skeleton as if it needed protection. Luna supposed it would seem strange to feel warmth after years of ice. He would grow up one day though, she figured. 'Down there,' He gestured to the pile of cuffs she would be bound to.

'Do you have to—' Luna began.

'Yes.'

She held out her hands for him. Why fight when she had no wand? The attempt would only seem ridiculous, and it would probably only make him laugh. Luna had no desire to hear that sound again, though she did wonder why it sounded so familiar. She was right in her suspicion about contact: Draco used his wand to bind her to the floor again. She stared up at him. He was only a year or so older than her.

Is this how he had treated his friends? Luna knew she was not his friend, and she never had been, but surely, them being so close in age, he could understand how scared she was right now. Would he be so cold as to make it worse? Luna did not want to stay put in one spot in the room. She liked to wander about, no matter how small the space. The chains melted away, link by link, into the floor, Luna's freedom being limited more and more as the length of it shortened. She would probably be sucked down through the cracks of stone.

It stopped about an inch or so from her wrists. In her peripheral vision, she saw Draco lower his wand, it's tip dimming as the spell ended. Luna's elbows grazed on a sharp stone when she used them to prop herself up. She heard Draco laughing as she inspected the scratch: luckily, it wasn't too bad.

He looked at how close she was to the floor, she might as well have laid down, and he smirked.

'What a shame.' Luna knew why she recognised his laugh in that instant.

__

Before her eyes she watched a younger Luna fall to the floor in front of a group of boys, the beautifully created model of a werewolf smashing before her eyes. And then one of the boys had laughed, harder than any of the others.

'What a shame! Should be more careful then shouldn't you, Loony?'

Luna felt similar to how she had then. Not exactly the same, but it was the same feeling of shame in herself. How had she been so careless, letting herself be captured to easily? 'Draco, please...' Luna cried. Her eyes shining with the threat of tears. He walked away, saying not a word to her. Though Luna could tell he did not want to, he gave her one last, long look before slipping out into the shadowy corridor.

Luna let her eyes water; she knew she wouldn't cry properly. She had never been one for weeping. It wasn't that she did not get upset, but she found other ways of handling it. Staring was a good one. She could stare forever. And when her eyes began to water, though not with actual tears, the moisture meant they could stay open longer without stinging. She stared at the wall for a while after Draco left.

It was dark when she heard footsteps outside her door.

'Luna?' a deep voice spoke lowly, in a strange accent. She did not recognise it.

'Who is it?' she asked, hopeful for a moment.

'You don't need to know.'

'But do I know you?' she questioned them, wanting _something_ to go on.

'My voice is disguised. If they use your memories later, they must not know who you have spoken to.' they answered.

'Oh? They still think I know something then, do they?' Luna was intrigued to say the least. Hadn't the potion already proved her knowledge on the Order's missions was very little?

'Yes.'

'Maybe I could invent something. Something to confuse them, you know.'

'No, do not reveal anything! Fictional or not, keep your thoughts to yourself.' it said.

'Pardon?'

'Keep your secrets, Luna. For now, they are all you have here.'

'I didn't tell them a lot earlier.' she replied truthfully. What did she really know anyway? Not much in her opinion.

'You were truthful in what you did say though?'

'Yes.'

'Then that alone was too much to reveal.'

'I'm sorry.' said Luna, staring at the door, imagining who it could be.

'Keep your Snorcack filled imagination to yourself, too!' the voice said. Strange, that was exactly what some of her professors had sounded like when she' had introduced them to nargles. 'It'll do you no good to start suspecting things here Luna.' the voice said.

'Snorcacks?' Luna mused, not hearing the latter piece of advice. She understood then: Harry had always said he was good at legilimency.

Luna spoke softly, 'Professor Snape, what was that you gave me earlier?'

The retreating footsteps seemed extra loud in the silence.

All was quiet again. 'Do not reveal anything, Luna.' he said.

She heard him back away for a while; then he reappeared outside her door—she guessed so anyway, as the closeness of his voice told her that was where he was.

'By the way, Miss Lovegood...' Snape whispered, low enough that Luna wondered whether the spiders crawling across her floor would hear him.

'...it was water.' Snape said. He left then, and in the distant darkness Luna heard a door shut for the final time that night.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it!_


	5. Hunger

Disclaimer: _I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR! - And also I do not own the 'Blibbering Hummdinger'_

**Quick Note: **Thanks once again to my brilliant beta-reader je suis l.m!

Oh and 'sedodamnums' roughly translates from the Latin phrase 'Calm loss'. I'm not sure if they are real (well to Luna they will be).

The chapter title refers to Luna's litteral hunger, but also her desire for something else. (The latter will remain ambiguous for now I think =)

Anyway, on with the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Luna summoned what courage she could, and attempted to apparate—on her own, since Neville's helping hand was no longer available.

She could feel herself trying to squeeze through the dimensions of space as her magic helped her along; it held her up, like a walking stick. She felt it pull her through the loop of the continuum, the sensation was strong and headmost to Luna's strength. But, despite its power, it felt more like guidance than force. She opened her eyes and braced herself to feel that lovely sense of relief upon arriving back home: the one in which she would vow never to take danger for granted again. That feeling never seemed to last for very long. Like a New Year's resolution, Luna herself never made them. She did not need to make changes at the start of the year: why wait all year when something was within your control to change already? If she wanted to try something, she would not wait for the first of January.

Of course, she had not gone anywhere when she opened her eyes. But she had definitely felt the pulling sensation in her stomach. She waited for a second, and the feeling came again, but she was puzzled as, this time, it occurred without her attempt at wandless magic.

It was indeed her stomach, but it was only rumbling. She lowered her head to her knees, where it stayed for a while, and waited for the hunger pangs to take their leave. Perhaps someone had left a 'do not feed the prisoner' sign on her door. The last thing she had eaten had been her cereal the other morning, and even that had wound up as enchanted breakfast-bowl art. She remembered swirling the wheat hoops around with her finger—some had disappeared beneath the surface and some bobbed like spherical boats. The remains made up a canvas, open for Luna's imagination to see what it would. She had seen a pack of wolves, a snowman, rows of doors and a strange set of moon earrings. It had not meant anything at all, and just been frivolous fun. Molly had watched Luna's barely eaten breakfast disappear down the drain with worry.

It was one thing about working for the order: Luna was often so busy, worried or tired that barely one meal a day made it to her stomach. Not that it had bothered Luna much; she remembered thinking she would just put any weight she had lost back on again as soon as her father arrived for Christmas—one of his more recent letters included a full account of a new recipe he had been trying: blueberry and elderflower teacakes.

It had sounded so wonderful that Luna's stomach had made itself known as she read, and reread, the letter. According to her father, the two flavours worked together to promote good justice. Luna, in general, was a good judge already, so she had doubted she would need to eat many.

Luna would see her father again. She would make it out of this horrible place soon. She had to keep telling herself so; otherwise she was not sure what she would do. Go mad?

Harry and Ron would laugh if they were here: whether they liked Luna or not, they did not hide the fact that most people thought Luna to be bonkers already.

'One more time...' Luna muttered, deciding to give escape another go.

Once again, her way was blocked by some sort of charm; she could not push past it to use her wandless magic. She wondered, for a moment, where her wand was now.

Probably, she thought, in the hand of Pansy, being swirled around in the air as though it truly belonged to her. It didn't though, and it never would. If only a dementor would appear in the burrow! Then Pansy's patronus would prove who she was. For Pansy, Luna saw an ethereal, silver sloth. They tended to hug trees as they slept, and it would not look too different from when Pansy had stalked around the castle holding Draco Malfoy's arm close to her, as though it was a baby in need of nurturing. Luna never really got the impression he held Pansy in any kind of light. He probably just saw her as a fan girl, following his every move and hanging on his every word. It was easily possible, thought Luna, that that was what Draco imagined Harry's life to be like.

Under all those spiteful looks and nasty comments, Luna could see the only thing he really disliked about Harry was the fact that he could make Draco jealous, where no one else could.

Jealousy was such a foreign thing to Luna, like a word in a different language one can never quite grasp.

Luna lost herself inside; she no longer noticed as she withdrew into her mind. It just happened naturally, like breathing or something.

She held onto her precious thoughts with small ribbons in her head, keeping them grounded and close to her, for she knew all things made within the mind were valuable.

What would her brain look like? Luna thought of a large headdress with crazy spirals jumping away from it in strange directions. They would appear pink to the eye but, to a trained one, would have no colour of their own. Each thought would form a different pattern and then, as a whole, all thoughts would bind into a strange sort of cloud.

Her eyes followed the greying bricks around the walls, counting as she went. So far she had three hundred and ninety one. Luna hoped there would be enough to make a multiple of eighteen. In Hebrew, eighteen meant _chai_, or 'life', and the number was often considered a good omen of life and luck: Luna knew the unfailing magic in both would help.

Luna's pupils dilated wide, making her eyes, for a second, appear black. She was beyond reach of the average world, letting herself fly back home on an invisible broomstick. In fact, it almost felt like running. Two or four (she couldn't be sure) strong legs let her gallop back to her friends and her father. The wind did not blow her hair behind her; it sort of rippled around her face instead. A few spare strands obscured her eyes, but she kept running. Her mind uncontrollable with the need for freedom, and her eyes lost in a vision none but Luna could see; she did not hear the cough at first.

Neither did she hear the grunt nor feel the haste with which she was pulled to her feet. But she was soon enough thrust inside a room by a cloaked figure whom, until then, might have been but a mark on her spectrespecs. Had she been walking? It was hard to tell.

Some people say that they often lost themselves in their head, their thoughts up there in the clouds. In Luna's case, it was pretty much literal.

She stood before Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, and suddenly had the urge to greet them like old friends; it had been more than three days since Luna had last seen anyone (a rarity, even for someone so used to being alone.)

'Your Father has written,' said Narcissa, her voice cold.

'Oh yes, I expected he would. He writes every week, you know, since he's been away in Australia.' Luna couldn't help feeling proud.

'Yes, but Pansy's gotten herself stuck writing a reply.'

'Oh,' Luna said, not really interested. She looked around the room, taking things in for the first time. This was not the room she had been led to three days ago, the room in which her body had suffered torture beyond anything she had ever known. No, _this_ room looked like it had been pulled straight out of some enchanted, though undeniably dark, castle. There were no coffins, or skulls, or even many things black. But every ornament seemed to tell Luna that she did not belong there, that this was not a place for innocent 'little girls'.

'Luna, you are to—' Narcissa began, but Luna cut her off.

'—to write the reply for her so as not to arise suspicion?' Luna said.

Ignoring the interruption, Narcissa nodded. She pointed to a seat, which Luna took—glad to have suitable place to sit again.

A quill and parchment were already set down before her, on a wooden desk. Next to them lay a letter that Luna grabbed for instantly.

She knew her heart would leap upon seeing her father's writing. It always did, but this time it would be with a greater bound than normal. Here would be something that proved she was missed and loved.

Narcissa knelt next to Luna and stared into her eyes.

'Luna, are you eating enough?' she said with a kind of concern.

'Normally I do.'

'Normally?'

'I've had nothing while I've been here.' she replied honestly. The only thing she'd had was a phial of water, and even that probably went straight to work hydrating her mouth after a taste of the cruciatus curse.

'I gave the elf the order.' Narcsissa seemed offended, as though she were suggesting Luna had made a mistake. Had she eaten? Luna thought not. Her already tiny wrists had shrunken to doll-sized.

Although it was probably self-destructive thinking, Luna wished they would shrink more. She had never been too worried about her looks; no, it wasn't that. But if they could only get a little smaller, she might be able to slip them through her handcuffs which, after three consecutive days on her wrists, were beginning to leave red-ringed marks.

She looked at them with a sort of smile. The wounds hurt but looked a little pretty._Cherry bangles_

Narcissa had moved closer and was examining the marks herself. Luna noted her hands, although not as bad as her own, were thin too.

What a lovely shadow puppet show they could make. Twenty thin fingers bending into wonderful shapes under a yellow glow light.

'I don't think you need those back on when you return to your cell.'

Draco seemed as though he wanted to protest. Apparently the idea of an unshackled enemy disturbed him.

Sensing her son's forthcoming objections, Narcissa spoke coldly to Luna. 'It's not like you'll go anywhere, anyway.'

Draco returned to his quiet state.

'Draco, dear, I really need to be going now. Make sure Bella gives Pansy my love.' She kissed her son on the forehead which, in the presence of Luna, clearly made him uncomfortable. Luna did not understand why and doubted she ever would—she loved her father far too much to care what people thought of them.

Luna watched Narcissa go, hearing her hushed whisper to her son as she went: 'Watch her, Draco, and, for goodness sake, make sure the elves get her food to her room. Don't worry, I'll be having words with your dear Aunt.'

This caught Luna's attention. Had Bellatrix really been so cruel as to prevent Luna from eating? Perhaps she did want Luna to die eventually. But instead of from a quick and, relatively, painless incantation, she would simply let her waste away. Luna thought about it, then quickly dismissed such a silly observation: Bellatrix was far too insane to take pleasure in killing anything if it did not include a curse sent by her own wand.

Draco stood close behind her after the far door had shut. Luna felt an uneasiness sweep over her, and, for once, it had nothing to do with the sedodamnums that flickered through auras, taking all calmness with them so that their victims were left feeling oddly nervous about something, though they did not know what. When people said they had a feeling they had forgotten something, Luna knew the real cause was a nearby gathering of the spiky winged creatures. They were invisible, though, so they did not have a large number of believers.

Luna thought it strange when people did not believe in things just because they were invisible. At times like that, she would point out that the wind and the coldness of winter had no physical form. People could act very oddly sometimes.

She felt her hand grip a quill and looked up to see Draco closing her fingers around it.

'Do what you're told!' he commanded. His temper did not frighten her.

She began to write before remembering she did not yet know what to reply to. Luna picked up her father's letter.

Holding it in her hand, she took her time to read it, not sure if they would let her keep this precious gift after she'd finished assisting them.

_My Dearest Luna,_

_The locals here are continually friendly. I really did not expect to feel so welcome! I think we should make this next year's Holiday, what do you reckon?_

_Charlie and Wilhelmina's daughter has been asking after you. She says she would love to see your necklace, you know the one with your patronus leaping around the pendant? Apparently hers is a bunny. Not a hare I know, but it seemed close, so I was wondering if you'd mind making her one like yours?We saw the strangest group of Muggles yesterday too; you know I think they're starting to impersonate vampires! All that dark hair and clothes and stark white skin (and in Australia too! Can you believe it?)_

_It was awful news to hear about poor Astoria. I was starting to think there might be hope for Slytherin, and then they go and kill one of their own? And we always thought Voldemort tended to show mercy to purebloods! Starting a Muggleborn charity though...a very brave and gallant last act if ever there was one. I really hope you're enjoying your stay at the burrow. I expect you've finally managed to put on a bit—with Molly's cooking, I'll be surprise if you haven't!_

_I'd better leave it there tonight darling, for the man I'm staying with is hosting a party later and I'm learning to decorate in their style. Wish me luck!Love Daddy_

_xxx-xxx-xxx _

(Luna's Father always gave her nine kisses. It was half of eighteen after all.)

Turning it over, Luna saw her Father's newest attempt at the Blueberry/Elderflower experiment. He probably expected her to try it out with Molly Weasley. Luna hoped Pansy would do that for her; Molly would be quite pleased if she offered to share a secret recipe, especially one that was still in the making.

Luna's reply was short and sweet, commenting on things he'd said—she agreed with what he'd said about Astoria. When she was almost finished, inspiration struck. Her muse (an imaginary fairy she had named Elvina, which meant 'noble friend') blew an idea through her ears, it was a quiet noise, so Draco did not hear; he would not see her muse either, since she had no form. Luna had heard somewhere that prisoners often used purposeful mistakes in letters to reveal hidden messages. Had a muggle queen not done so once as she awaited her death in a high London tower?

And so it was: Luna dropped her 'h' from father, her 'e' from lovely, her 'l' from Molly, and Percy Weasley became Ercy. When she was done, she held the finished letter out to Draco. She had also added an extra four kisses, just for 'luck'. There was irony in that which, although not being a huge fan of the stuff, Luna delighted in.

Draco read, reread and re-reread the letter until Luna was pretty sure his eyes would keep flicking from left to right without him any the wiser.

He frowned a few times, and then his face turned cold, accusing, and somewhat amused at the same time. This only entertained Luna and, had she not realised she had been found out, she might have laughed.

'Think I'm stupid do you, Lovegood?'

Luna's eyes widened: the single most innocent gesture them human face could manage. 'Pardon?' she asked

'You really didn't think I'd miss your bad 'spelling' did you?' He threw the letter at her and Luna caught it with a shaking hand. She was always shaking lately.

'Write it again.' She did. She knew if she had more energy she might have attempted a different code but, as it was, she had nothing left to fuel her brain. It felt like it was just flopping around idly in her head while she tried, still, to draw things out of it.

Luna did not know why but at that moment she felt the urge to ask something that had been puzzling her for a while now.

'Draco, what is it the dark lord has that you want?' she asked, still writing.

'What did you say?'

'What does he have that you want?'

'It's none of your business, so stay out.' He sounded angry, but Luna needed to ask.

'It's just that, well, he has so many followers, but what is he promising all of them? I mean, they won't all want the same thing, so how is he going to make all of them happy? On top of killing Harry, the order and muggleborns. And then he's got that body to see to.' She trailed off, upon seeing something arise in Draco's eyes that she had never seen before.

'You're smart, Luna,' Draco mused

His hand had reached her before she knew it. His hit was hard, and Luna felt her face thud with the furious blood pumping erratically through her cheek.

'But—' he pulled her upwards so that she slammed into the back of her chair, his arm crossed over her shoulders. His voice chilled her burning cheek when he spoke: '—not good enough!'

He let her go and stood behind her once again, but not before Luna saw how his hands trembled, and from this she understood: her words had held the truth and had frightened him—whatever his motives were for aiding Voldemort, they obviously made him rather vulnerable.

'Question me like that again and I'll—' he started.

'You won't do anything.' In a fact-like tone Luna spoke. She knew he wouldn't properly hurt her; she could imagine it written in his guilty eyes.

Draco Malfoy had a loud, aggressive bark, but he was nothing to be feared. Luna could sense a coward when she met one.

'Don't flatter yourself, Lovegood. You annoy me, and you'll pay.' Luna was still not scared. His words were threatening, but they didn't actually threaten. Empty words, in Luna's ears.

When the letter was finished she handed him it. He smirked and set it down by Luna's discarded quill, which she had arranged so that the feathers pointed where she felt a southern pull. _Like all your fellow feathered friends_, she thought happily.

Draco walked her to the door, where she was met by the same cloaked figure as before, or at least his feet seemed the same. (It was the only part of him she could distinguish.) They stuck out at strange angles and what with that and his jet robes, he gave Luna the somewhat comical impression of a depressed penguin. She did not share this observation with him for fear of offending the man. It had never been common knowledge what wonderful creatures penguins were, and Luna was sure a death eater would not appreciate the compliment.

Then, it was on her way back to the dungeons that Elvina made herself known, brewing a plan in her mind. Up ahead was a large fork, a left corridor and a right. Luna felt the death eater close to her. He must be an inch away. He had his wand out too; she'd seen it when Draco had opened the door.

This much she was sure of: haste would be a must.

The death eater seemed a little out of it for a second when Luna turned to face him. She pointed to the ceiling and screamed in a shrill voice: 'Watch out! It's a Blibbering Hummdinger!'

The cloaked man promptly checked behind him. Luna supposed her screech had done the trick.

_Catch them off guard_, she thought. Those had become four of Harry's favourite words

She would have only a second, but that was enough. Her hair flew around her in a swirling concoction of yellow hues, and her earrings bounced happily with their red beads tinkling like bells.

Too desperate to think twice, Luna ran.


	6. Falling Petal

_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

_A/N/: Special thanks to reviewers: je suis l.m, xxkpxx and THEKOOKS_.

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Luna flew, her feet either a foot ahead or a mile back—with no feeling on the end of her ankles she couldn't guess where they had got to. This led her to briefly consider how inconvenient it would be to lose her feet now.  
'Hey! Get back here, you brat!' called someone from around the corner; she had just flung herself behind it. Luna pretended the sound belonged to a painting and not to the man who had almost caught up to her. Paintings couldn't chase people, and they certainly couldn't scream jinx after jinx at them.  
'I said get back here! STUPEFY!' Luna jumped behind a statue on her right, the spell just missing her. She would count her blessings later, but not right then, for her head just said run.

She obeyed, catching, in the corner of her eye, a fleck of black somewhere a few yards behind. He was quick, she noticed. Breathing became a problem—maintaining it while willing her legs to run faster was not exactly the kind of multi-task she had ever excelled in.

'Stupefy!' he screamed and Luna ran harder, now experimenting with a sort of zigzag motion so that the death eater would not be quite sure which blond girl to aim at. It seemed to be working. She wondered if she would look like a bug of some kind. Or better—one of those jumping spiders, whose every motion seemed to be decided by the level of danger they were in: slow jump to escape a larger arachnid, a huge leap to devour a small fly, or the instant dart; when she saw a spider performed the latter, Luna momentarily suspected the tiny thing could apparate.  
Right then, she could no longer picture a human running beneath the dark cloak's material.

She just needed to reach a fork in the corridors, hopefully one that led straight into another bend. That way she would be able to choose her direction before the man could follow—he would just have to guess. Would luck be on her side?

Another voice joined in the chorus the man had now created. It seemed to make him fade away, pulling Draco's words to the forefront. They caught Luna before the men did.

'What were you thinking? You incompetent brute!' Draco snarled, Luna vaguely imagined the scowl that would accompany it.

'I was tricked it wasn't my fault. Don't give me the blame, Malfoy.'

'And why would I do that? I'll blame the bloody candlesticks, shall I?'

'You aren't funny, boy.' The retort sounded dark, and Luna heard every word in perfect clarity, ringing in her ears like the human revealing spell. She sensed their equally quick steps pounding on the floor after her. Running lifted her. It practically made her feel like she could cruise along and let her legs worry about getting to places, and while that feeling stayed within her reach, Luna would not let go. She ran and ran, surprising herself with her quick feet and crazed arms.

A corner materialized and Luna dived for it's safety, _almost_ stopping with relief, _eventually_ stopping from exhaustion. It was not permanent, but she needed the rest. When she could separate every sound the voices made (there was definitely more than Draco and the man now), it was time to restart the race again.  
They had taken the other fork, she knew for the collective hunting chants died away, like a wave losing power.

Luna carried on.

She needed to find a door and wouldn't pause again until she was on the other side of it. Hopefully, she would be spared any sneaking around the house's many rooms and the first door she came upon would be the one that led straight outside. Luna supposed the view would overlook the countryside.

A bird swooped over a window, unseen by Luna, who only had eyes for her destination. The thing squawked once and then dived out of sight.

There, she could see a stronger light. If Luna was not mistaken, didn't old manor houses tend to have their largest, sunniest windows situated on the frontal side? She was sure of it, and that momentary reflection was what helped her push through the aching and panting to sprint onwards.

She wheeled clumsily around a final bend, almost tasting the sunlight by then.

That was when—she figured it was anyway—she saw him. Draco Malfoy flanked his father and Aunt Bellatrix. They were storming like a thunder cloud through the entrance hall. They did not see her, for their attention was directed straight ahead and they were not heading her way.  
Her feet reattaching themselves to her ankles, Luna froze—unnaturally still. No windows above, or for that matter anywhere near her, Luna allowed the shadows from the two looming walls on either side to provide protection. Under her own black cloak now, Luna sunk back further, her hands feeling for anything that might open.

Harry's cloak would have been a very welcome friend; he had let her use it once. Though not without, and, of course, she had not missed it, a look of grudging reluctance.

It eased her mind to pretend she had it then, as the three dark figures moved down the hall. To feign that her hand draped the thing over her body and let the loose fabric fall in a downpour of invisibility to the floor.  
Pretend to be something long enough, and you shall become it...  
Wise words, Luna had once heard a witch remarking them to a friend when discussing Harry's 'chosen one' facade. Luna had thought about it often, and, after much to-and-fro-ing, had finally settled with the idea of Harry's status being a genuine disguise in itself. His own personal invisibility cloak—one that did not strike Luna as a thing to be removed any time soon.

Now 'under' the invisibility cloak, Luna moved backwards with more determination. She would find a door, her head told her. Humouring her inner voice's attempt at alleviation, Luna decided it was right.

A second later her hand pressed into coolness and she breathed. The round handle twisted once and softly clicked open. Its door made no sound when she pushed into it. Luna slipped within her hiding place and left her panic outside, where it stayed, slipping away like the discomfort of a sore throat.

Luna kind of had the feeling that it was over. That, somehow, the room would be magical enough to bring her wand back to her. Would it be in there? She did not even know where she was. A musky, damp sort of smell filled the air.

Mixed among other things, was a temptation in Luna to crawl into the corner and hide there, as if doing so would prevent a simple glimpse inside Luna's safe room from revealing her whereabouts. The death eaters would not see Luna if she curled into a ball, far away in the secret corner.  
Luna did not curl up, but neither was she brave enough to venture out for a long while. Some distant yelling found her, but it was no longer the noise that frightened her. Instead that eerie, almost horror-inspired silence was what made her blood run a little colder.

She was safe in the noise, as safe as she could be under the circumstances anyway. But if a death eater were to creep quietly, slip a sly hand over the handle and reveal the escapee, well, she would not fight. What was the point without a wand? Unfortunately, Luna had never thought of herself as a very good fighter and had never taken up the opportunity to test her theory. Fighting would never solve anything, but Luna knew that was not always why people did it.

Take the war that was going on outside her little safe-room. In it, neither Harry nor Voldemort seemed to seek resolve or any other cause that could justify a war in Luna's mind, for there was simply none to be found anymore. It was a war of emptiness. Lost promises and a difficult, unrecognisable future that would never live up to what either side wanted. People were fighting, now, because it had become their lives. Once upon a pre-Harry world, Luna imagined Lord Voldemort had fought and killed so many because it was, he believed, the ultimate power over someone. Voldemort adored power more than he ever would anything else; Luna understood that. It was one of the few cases in which she was happy to disagree with anyone about it.

_'He's mad, Luna. Mad! Can't you see that?' _a friend had once told her. It might have been Ginny. She could not remember. But Lord Voldemort was not mad; he just had a different perspective with which he viewed the world, and, in a way she would never look too deeply into, Luna had always found him a relatable person on that account.

But she also understood how very wrong he was. Power did not mean death.

And Harry? He fought for vengeance. He had never once said it, but it was always there, in his ever-bright eyes. He would always fight for the greater good. Would always remember his parents (he could never forget them; it was not as though he was given a choice in the matter, anyway). In a way, Harry too was like Voldemort because he would _always_ fight.

If she were caught now, Luna would not fight.

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'Here! I swear it was here, woman!' Macnair yelled.

Bellatrix's eyes turned to black spheres, warming her face with no pity. This expression made her fierce, yet she retained all traces of sanity. On a woman like Bella, that meant bad news.

Macnair did not speak again.

'I saw her further along,' she said.

'How far?' someone asked.

'Further.'

The group split into many strands, and all took stray paths away from the entrance hall. All except Draco, who leaned against the front door, comfortably marking his post by leaning his head back and yawning as though bored with this sudden chaos.

Bellatrix shot him a probing glance.

Draco explained: 'If we all go looking, she'll get out. She won't be able to apparate until she's past the gate anyway, and I can see it from here.' Bellatrix appraised her Nephew with an odd sort of regard before sprinting away.

Draco's wand stayed at his side, but tilted forward: His spell directed into the passageway opposite.

'Remaneo...'

He had only whispered, but he had a feeling someone heard.

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Despite the silence, Luna's ears burned from overload. She was forcing her auditory range to expand like a well learned protego charm. She could find and interpret the soft clicking that belonged to the old grandfather clock she had passed when sprinting—not really noticing it at the time.

Nearly everything reverberated back to her. But then why could Luna not find the hurried steps of her pursuers? She heard something, but it was not pacing. More like a gentle murmur.

She wondered if they had cast a spell to silence themselves, but it was pointless really. Should Luna catch the first sign of their approach it would not help in any way other than to prepare her for a confrontation. She hoped it would not be too grand a show of her capture.

Grand... Malfoy Manor was grand, but to what extent? Would it be so large as to stretch back half a mile or so, far enough that the death eaters could be corridors away? Luna seized this notion with a new energy. It propelled her to open the door, just to check.

She could not see anyone, just a faint shift in the light that did not worry her. It would only be a curtain flapping, reaching out for the sun's evading warmth; like ivy crawling slyly up a wall.

Behind her the door clicked softly shut, her secret room lost once more behind the wood.

Luna wanted to preserve the courage she felt—the unmistakable euphoria of adrenalin. She would have loved to stow it away in a little bucket, lay the carpet of time over and keep it again until she needed it most. Of course she could not truly do that, but she went along with the strange mental game anyway, because it was fun. Luna slipped through the house like an old ghost who knew her way well; it was just one last, albeit long, passageway, and then there was freedom. It was enough to follow this thought's train, even though Luna did not trust it.

It had been far too easy. She only wished that realisation had been enough to halt her feet. As it was, she walked on.

Luna walked on, and on and on.

She could not stop.

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He saw her nose first, peeking out from the door she was hidden behind. He had known she was there for a while, but this would be more fun than merely bursting in and carting her back to the dungeons.

No this would be fun, almost like a game, and God only knows Draco was ready to play something.

She crept out, more of her face appearing. Draco almost laughed. Did little Loony actually think a casual, floating nose would not seem strange?

Once her eyes popped into existence, he fully retreated.

She seemed to have caught the flicker his ring cast upon the sun rays but dismissed it.

And then her light steps started. Oh, how brilliant it was; she just kept walking. The stupid little girl, she had not even noticed.

Draco peeked around the corner.

Yes, she was still staring straight ahead. Loony was in a world where nothing would come between herself, the front door, and freedom. In that world, Draco's spell did not exist.

He watched the girl walk aimlessly for about ten minutes. Then, when Draco had begun to tire of spying, he stepped out.

'Sorry, am I in your way?' Draco laughed.

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Draco's shadow dominated the floor, shading the stone with long obscuring limbs.

But then, oddly enough, when Luna turned around to escape, she just _couldn't_. Though she felt her feet move, turn around, and retrace her steps, she went nowhere. The shade Draco cast upon her did not shift at all.

Luna became aware of the continuum charm and, once she sensed it, could see the traces of magic. She was baffled at how she had obliviously ignored it. It seemed so foolish now—who could possibly roam a corridor for a douzen or more minutes?

An ant, possibly. But Luna was not small enough to be mistaken for such a strongly built, yet minuscule insect (a confusing thought at its best).

Luna stumbled along, her tired legs weighing her down and the light seeming so far away.

It was so, so far...

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'You feel it?' Bellatrix asked Greyback. He turned around, as though he could see through the wall. Bellatrix spoke to him through the parallel passageway—the two were separated by only a thin wall. It was through it that he first heard Bellatrix's whispered joy.

'Yes. Downstairs?' he asked, referring to the sudden pull of magic. Draco's spell surged its way through the house as though desperate to be shared with other wizards.

'Oh goody!' Fenrir followed Bella's gleeful laughter down the walk, and they met at the staircase.

They were close to the back of the mansion and so had a long walk ahead of themselves before they would reached the source of the magical pull.

'You believe him?'

'Who Macnair? Fenrir what kind of idiot would I have to be to be—'

Fenrir shook his head.'No Bella, Vol—the dark lord!'

Bellatrix's face froze as slashes of offence spoiled her otherwise perfectly controlled expression.

'I believe it is never within our rights to question his actions...' Bella positivity hissed.

Fenrir could not believe Bellatrix sometimes. Take then, for instance.

'...or his reasons.' She frowned, her eyes slipping to the floor.

'And Narcissa?'

'Same as before.' She nodded. Narcissa would never change. She would adore her son beyond anything else the world had to offer. Bellatrix had never understood that, and she _had_ tried to.

'But, Draco—he's not a-a... murderer!' Fenrir could not see what demon had possessed the dark lord when he had concocted this bizarre and seemingly impossible request.

'Draco understands the risks. He knows what is expected but is still willing. Although, I do not think he has yet learned _the_ risk it will require of him.' Bella did not see it fit to finish. They both knew of Draco's fate. Neither could help it, and neither would truly want to. Not in the end.

They both retreated into a silence that neither would break until they reached the entrance hall, where Draco would be.

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'Remaneo?' Luna asked him, her eyes on his shadow.

Draco smirked.

'Hmmm, yes," she continued. "You've cast it quite well. We never needed to test in school before. There was never really enough room in the charms classroom for moving around to test it.' She smiled sadly and let her eyes settle on the door, behind Draco. Hogwarts had been so long ago. 'That's why I didn't realise, you see.' Luna looked at Draco, who was leaning strangely against the wall.

Sardonically, Draco offered his 'apology': 'And here I thought you were just plain oblivious! Do forgive me.'

'That's quite all right,' responded Luna, her manner of staring behind Draco's shoulder doing nothing to help defend herself against his insult.

Draco mumbled something indistinguishable.

She did not feel the spell because the view behind Draco was simply far more entertaining.

'Please let me go.' She sighed as the ground beneath her feet shook, opening into blackness that Luna did not want to be handed over to.

Draco glued her feet to the floor with a sticking hex, his eyes ablaze with the thrill of waving a wand in front of a helpless witch's face.

Luna knew something was wrong. The Remaneo-induced continuum came to an abrupt end, and soon she was being sucked downwards. Like a petal floating in a bathtub, she tried to keep herself from submitting into the forceful current as the plug was peeled back and the water swirled. The whirling ripped her from the corridor and down she went. The dark wave pulled at the remaining strands that kept Luna afloat, and she sank.

Draco disappeared with a soft swish, and she was alone. Her feet touched down on the cold floor first, closely followed by her knees, palms and cheek.

'Well that was different,' remarked Luna.

It was a curious place, she observed, looking around at her destination.

Draco was already descending down to her level, his hand holding her neck as he brought her up to meet his level.

'I won't hurt you-' He seemed torn. Had he not held her throat so tightly, Luna might have offered thanks for her allowance of peace, after asking him to please not bring her downstairs in such a horrible manner again

His grip tightened, the wand glowed with a dominating beam that pressed in on Luna's wide eyes.

Then, Draco declared, voice bold (mirroring none of his earlier cowardice when Luna had been tortured by his Aunt): '-but I'm not setting you free either.'


	7. Neverland dreaming

Disclaimer: _I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

_Special thanks to reviewers... je suis l.m (and for her beta work), xxkpxx and shadowdreamslayer!_ Also does anyone have any objections if I up-rate this story to a 'M'? If so, let me know in a P.M or review**.**Enjoy this chapter. In this one, things are getting a little strange within Malfoy Manor, as well as within the family itself. I'm a huge labyrinth fan so I'll quote that in this chapter 'nothing is as it seems'. Hope you like it!

* * *

Beneath an increasingly jittery chandelier, Luna began to release herself from Draco's hold, which was not so hard once Draco forgot to pay attention. His fingers slipped down from her neck one by one, as she lifted each away.

He appeared momentarily dumbstruck, walking away from Luna to smooth his hair, running his fingers through it as though sifting for treasure. Luna watched with interest.

'Is something wrong?' she asked, watching keenly for any remote sign of weakness on his part; this could be her chance. If she could keep him talking, then she would need only to distract his attention from his wand for one moment―and it would be hers. Luna did not revel in the thought of stealing, but she could make an exception, just this one time.

Draco, acting as though she were not there, paced like he wanted to burn through the floor.

'I said, is something wrong?' Trying again, Luna waited for a response.

'I hope you know―I swear to God, I hope you know the trouble I could get in for that,' was his eventual comment.

Luna couldn't make sense of it; he had not done anything unworthy of a death eater, had he? He had caught her, stopped her from leaving and had dragged her, quite literally, back to what Luna could only assume was a new cell in the dungeons downstairs.

Luna tried to get his attention, tried to halt his ramblings. 'Where are we?' she asked, looking about her for any clues. Perhaps there would be a sign somewhere. She could only see strange boxes, none of a similar shape, and all perched precariously on top of each other. Nothing too revealing. She gathered that the boxes must have spent a while down there though, for their corners were worn and many had already fallen off or were simply hanging to their stations like old soldiers. Luna pictured a parallel room somewhere, in which there would be a hundred spare, cardboard edges with no boxes on which they could corner.

'Just a room.' He was being very vague, and Luna needed something to go on. As a captive, she found her regular checklist had lengthened so that she now needed to know where she was at all times. As fun as it would be to lose herself skipping through the huge house, with no real destination, Luna pulled her logical side back from the hole it had been pushed into within her mind. She needed more than wit to get out of here; she needed intelligence. She wished Hermione's brain could be loaned to her, if only for a short while.

'But why not just wait upstairs? People were on their way to meet you... I could hear them,' Luna added. She had been so close to preparing herself for an attack, she now realised. Perhaps that was why she had ignored Draco's spell so stubbornly? If she had just kept walking, she may have collapsed from exhaustion. No food and lots of walking had never been a very wise idea. Luna had gone without food before, but only from illnesses. She knew what it did to the body, and she knew she would never starve intentionally. But it had been out of her hands these last three days. What exactly could she have done about it? Should she have forced stone and chains down her own dry throat?

And so, hungry or not, she had walked. But why had Draco made her stop? Unless he had read her mind, and he had not, for she surely would have felt such a personal trespass, there was no way he could have comprehended her tiredness.

'My aunt, she was coming to find you. She could sense my spell, I just knew it.' Draco did not look at her, unlike Luna whose eyes followed his every step. His thoughts appeared to dictate which direction he should travel in, one led him away before another brought him back. He seemed to give a literal meaning to a _train of thought_. Draco's eyes roamed over the space before them. They were unfocused, Luna spotted. She did not think he really saw her at all.

His current direction seemed to be a large neat circle, with Luna at its center.

'Knew it, she would have tortured you again, worse than before. I could feel how angry she was with you. Couldn't do nothing. I couldn't let her kill you.'

Draco was reminding Luna of herself. Often, after discovering a new song, a beautiful new spell or something equally as riveting, Luna tended to stutter and burst her excited thoughts aloud to whomever would lend an ear. Of course Draco sounded far from excited, but the way in which he abruptly ended one sentence to jump straight on to another was, in short, the same.

'Oh, is it because you're good, too?'

Hope had never been a quality Luna went without.

'Yeah, I'm just a lovely little angel, aren't I?' he mocked

She had not meant to sound so optimistic, but it came naturally. It was hardly a bad thing to look on the bright side every now and again.

'But you didn't hand me over... I think you would have gotten credit, you know.'

'Want me to send you up now? I'll do it, I swear!' His dark robes swished around over Luna's feet, her eyes now on his flapping cloak instead of him.

He suited black, she realised. It seemed unfair to Luna that black was always deemed the enemy of white. Black and white, dark and light. She found it a tad too stereotypical to associate all things black with evil. After all, the moon wouldn't seem as lovely without the night sky to contrast against it.

'No, thank you.'

'Wait down here.' He muttered, before heading for a door, grabbing his wand tighter, making the bones of his hand protrude like the snowy bumps of a northern mountain.

Luna sighed, tired of disappointment.

His cloak was swept out through the door, and, a second later, she heard the spirit-breaking clank of the door's lock.

'You didn't need to do that.' she informed Draco, knowing he would not hear. To begin with, Luna thought she had referred to the lock, but, after a minute or two alone, realised it also applied to him taking her out of Bellatrix's (and her wand's) aim.

It was an unaccommodating room. What with all the large boxes, that huge bulking wardrobe, chests of drawers stacked above one another like a deck of cards, and the endless clutter of covered paintings, Luna laughed at how huge she suddenly felt in the minuscule space that was left to roam in.

Yet, despite the mess, Draco had managed to pace perfectly in there, without once tripping or banging into anything.

_'Strange...' _Luna mused.

Combining her solitude with her anxiety for Draco to return, Luna decided to distract herself from those feelings and the looming walls by having a peek around. A large box caught her attention, and she made her way, carefully, over to it.

'Imperfect' seemed a fair word to describe the thing. It looked purposefully haggard and worn: clear signs of a traditional hand me down. Luna's attention soon belonged to other things, nothing of particular importance to her, though she realised that to the Malfoys they could well be. Probably nothing too precious to the Malfoys; she just couldn't see Draco Malfoy leaving her locked in a room with his family's treasures.

Her curiosity was insatiable, and she did not stop her eyes as they roamed over every inch of the place. Somewhere above she heard the shrieking noise of Bellatrix's realisation. Luna pondered what Draco was telling them:

'Wasn't her, just a trick of the light,' he could say. 'I haven't caught her, yet. It was just a trap'.

Luna knew either lie would satisfy Bellatrix as a perfectly plausible excuse.

Whatever he was using as an excuse, Luna knew it would be nothing more than that: a lie crafted to hide the truth. Draco would not inform his dear aunt he had removed the target of her rage, lest she kill it. He would not tell Bellatrix that said target was currently tucking herself away into a corner right below them.

Bellatrix's heavily pounding feet vibrated the entire ceiling as Luna hid behind a large box. She curled up tight and prayed everything would be OK.

Once safe behind, what she now saw to be, one of the more dangerous looking box-towers, Luna began frantically searching with her eyes for anything that she could use to defend herself―in case Bellatrix broke through the floor and fell upon her.

After a short while, various noises began to sound above her. She pictured the innocent face of Draco amidst the overwhelming pressure the other death eaters would put him under. He was, Luna knew, younger than many of the others, and so his word would not settle many of their suspicious minds.

Luna begun to feel a tiny bit frightened, well not exactly as such. Luna did not remember ever feeling scared, not truly anyway. Her replacement for fear seemed to be bravery. It was not as though the fear did not exist, but rather, when it did surface to drag Luna down, she would merely duplicate her bravery, until she had enough of it so that the fear seemed small enough to pass off as something entirely different. It was a trait of the Gryffindors that she had always held in high regard at school.

Then, as the banging upstairs begun to grow in volume, Luna briefly wondered what she would do. Obviously there was no escaping again until Draco returned, if it was him who came to claim her.

The door clicked open after a few minutes, not giving Luna much time, or space, to formulate much of a plan. As her eyes fixed on the tall blond entering the room, Luna decided the right thing to do, for now, was to just 'wing it'. She peeked out from behind her cardboard shield. Only when she was certain he was alone did Luna finally shift herself across the floor, out from her corner and into his sight.

His eyes seemed colder than they had not long ago. Luna made up her mind: Draco Malfoy was suffering from multiple personalities. It was her diagnosis at any rate.

'I can't decide.'

'Where to take me now?' Luna guessed, not needing his sharp nod as confirmation. He moved over to her.

'Stand up.' His wand loomed threateningly near her cheek, and she intended to obey him. She intended to, but her legs would not budge. They were comfortably hidden beneath her**,** reluctant to be unravelled.

'Wait, just a minute... please...' Luna panted. Short of breath. Her race to escape earlier was catching up to her―she felt like she'd been framed, nailed to the floor.

She wanted to tell her head, 'No, I haven't spent the last hour sprinting'. Someone else must have done the work in her body, someone else had tried to escape; however, her body would not be reasoned with, and, for right then, Luna could not even find the strength to look up at Draco, despite the blazing glare he was giving her.

'What the hell―' he began, but stopped upon seeing Luna's tired and weak body slipping down to the floor. She tried to use her arms as walking sticks, to keep her upright, as they seemed to be the only part of her body with any strength left, but even they were struggling, and sure enough Luna was soon curled into a ball on the floor. Her every limb aching with the task of keeping her alive. She had never felt this tired in her life. Surely she had not done that much running; she was sure she hadn't.

'What trick are you trying now?' He cocked an eyebrow. 'Nargles sending you into a snooze are they?' He laughed, only seeming half amused.

Luna was aware of what was going on: Draco tilted his head down to stare at her. She even made an effort to look into his eyes when they roamed to hers, probably searching for signs of deceit, trickery. Draco would find none of those. Luna did not know what exactly was happening to her, but it was not her own doing.

Her limbs seemed to suddenly retain every heavy weight she had ever made them carry, slowly drooping towards the floor like they had become the secret lover of gravity. She forced her eyes to remain open, but even that small task sucked up her remaining energy.

Luna made the effort, and soon wished she hadn't. Draco seemed to have understood something she hadn't; he began to lift her up, first with a strong arm and then, after it proved to be an awkward way of manoeuvring around the room, with his wand. Luna felt the pull of the floor vanish as she floated along in the air―slowly revolving as though she was a ballerina in a jewellery box, fixed to the wood, spinning in place of the winding toy's accord.

Wary, she remained alert as Draco began to move quicker, pulling her along with his spell. They were heading back to the dungeons, she supposed.

However, it was not a dungeon Draco shoved her in, but something that looked equally dark and sinister as the potions classroom back at Hogwarts. Many vials, jars, bottles and books lined the walls. In the center was a table, which she imagined would be used as a desk, with many spare bits of parchment stacked in irregular piles. Draco glanced over at it, and he seemed to consider letting Luna drop there. She did not expect him to, all those papers, no mater how indistinguishable they might appear, appeared semi-important.

Luna was not shocked when she landed on the floor. Her head pounded with the force of the collision. Draco was stepping over her, his hands quickly rummaging through a shelf just near her feet; Luna was reminded of the third years on their first trip to Honeydukes: their hands darting hurriedly through the selection of sweets on the pick and mix table. She half expected Draco to pull out a length of raspberry-ripple unicorn hair.

What it was he eventually got his hands on, she never got to find out. Draco kneeled beside Luna, opening her mouth carefully, as though afraid of being bitten. His way of gingerly separating her lips and heaving the thing (which Luna could vaguely register as a thick, viscous juice) into her mouth, struck Luna as the same way in which many students had fed some creatures, disregarding Hagrid's friendlier approach to feeding.

She could feel an effect beginning to bubble away inside; it must have been an energising draught, or something else similar. Her body began to mend itself. Her arms did not feel like bags of lead dangled from her wrists. Her feet could lift free from the quicksand that had rendered them useless, and her eyes could once again unblinkingly move around Luna's surroundings. She took in Draco's tentative stance and decided another diagnosis for him was paranoia.

'I feel much better. What was that?' she inquired, shifting to her feet with care. It was unnecessary, though, for she felt fine. She could have jumped to her feet with one quick swoop for all the energy in her limbs.

'Antidote.'

'Yes, I thought that,' she replied. Well, perhaps she had initially thought it to be an energising potion, but an antidote _had _been in the top five. 'But to what?' she added, curiosity always one to win her over, even in the wake of Draco's possible wrath.

'Our dungeons are cursed. They drain you of strength, so you're too weak to escape. I'm surprised you made it as far as you did.'

'Oh.' That was something Luna had not heard of, though the general idea of it sounded much like that of the Wizarding prison Azkaban, in which the dementors served a similar purpose.

'I need to think. You're going back in the dungeons where you belong, but I can't let them see. If they knew I'd helped you...' He trailed away from Luna and, apparently, himself too.

Draco rose to his own height and checked outside the door. Looking, Luna guessed, for any sign of his dear family.

He wheeled back around, pointing accusingly at Luna. 'You're going to go along with what I say.' His pointed finger almost touched her, and Luna imagined he would be casting an imaginary _Imperio, _forcing her to follow his order.

Luna nodded once. 'You didn't have to do that.'

'Do what?' Draco looked down on her, but Luna would not look up.

'Help me. It was odd for you. Why did you do it?' Luna's eyes shifted from side to side for a moment, reflecting the turbulence of her thoughts as she searched for an answer. His behaviour was puzzling to say the least.

'STUPEFY!' He yelled, hurling Luna back across the room as she fell, unconscious, to the floor. He strolled past her, his wand flicking her up in the air like a feather, as he went.

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'Draco, where have you been? Where was she?' Bellatrix moved around Luna, kicking her feet on the way and knocking her shoes off.

'Down near the dungeons. She was under the impression, I think, that it would be the last place we'd go looking. Don't worry, she's just suffering from the curse down there.' Draco laughed without humor.

'What? Oh the dungeon. I was waiting to find her collapsed somewhere. Took long enough for it to take hold, didn't it!'

'Shall I take her back down?' Draco offered, relieved that his Aunt would not torture someone who was not awake enough to scream under the pain.

'No. We need to be getting on with―'Bellatrix held her tongue as her heavily lidded eyes rolled over Luna's form. 'With _it_,' she finished.

'Yes, I suppose we do,' Draco said glumly, as he followed his aunt out of the hall.'Dolohov, do the honours,' he called to the tall Death Eater over his shoulder.

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Sometime during the moment it took Dolohov to pick Luna up and begin the walk back to what Luna suspected would be a much more secured imprisonment, she came around. Draco's spell finally leaving her in peace, she was able to understand why he had done it. She knew Bellatrix would not have made her suffer if Luna was not conscious to feel the full extent of it.

Lightened by Draco's kindness, Luna began to feel maybe there was something behind his mask; it might not be anything she wanted to find, but if it was there, she would look for it.

Dolohov set her on her feet when he realised she was awake. Luna had not minded being carried, as it felt almost like a small, yet childlike comfort.

'You know, I think you like reptiles,' Luna spoke, breaking the stiff silence Dolohov had seemed perfectly comfortable with.

When he did not respond she continued. 'You follow a man who looks like a snake, you hiss like you want to speak parcletongue, and you blend in with every black background because of your clothes: just like a chameleon.'

He was looking straight ahead, ignoring Luna like a frustrated adult would a persistent toddler.

'I wonder if you respect tortoises, too. They're reptiles, you know. And they're very wise as well. Slow but smart. Imagine how much knowledge you could have if you lived for over a hundred years...'

Though his mask would not show it, Luna knew Dolohoy was gaping.

'Get in there,' he snapped, holding open the dungeon door. Luna did so without further prompting. She hoped Draco's antidote would still be working all right. The door clicked shut, and darkness swelled up around her like the blood pumping behind a throbbing bruise. It was strange how accustomed she was getting to the dark. Luna wondered if she would make a good bat by now, or an owl maybe. Yes, a wise old owl.

Underneath the window, Luna settled herself down, noticing the two large patches of shadow outside her door where Dolohov was most likely standing guard.

She might try talking to him later.

Outside darkness was descending down, or rising up, from the horizon. She watched the shades of sky diffuse and smudge into new colours, She wondered if every night was the same: black sky, white moon, dark land...

Or could things change? What a night it would be if the islanders of Britain were to gaze at the stars to find them replaced with rubies, the moon no longer round and pale but rather a yellow dice, turning this way and that, ready to decide the fate of the new night. She would have loved to transfigure the moon, change its face, splodge the colour with polka-dots. But Luna knew a line existed between dreams and reality, and she had vowed long ago to never cross such a line.

The moon and stars were too beautiful anyway. Though as Luna fell into a dreamless sleep, she could not help her eyes from wandering up to the window every so often. The picture had been painted and mounted in her head. In sleep, Luna saw nothing but red stars.

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'Anything else?' Draco asked

'She cannot speak the name of the place, and spells ward me off from about a mile in every direction.'

'The Order is sure getting cocky. I suppose they think silly guards will stop him forever, don't they?'

'The wards? Hardly cocky Draco; that's just fear. They can feel they're going to lose, see? They're trying to protect the only place they're safe in.'

Draco looked at his aunt, unsure whether it was normal for any one person to feel so confident about a future that seemed unendingly foggy no matter which angle it was viewed from.

'How's Pansy getting on?'

'With scar-head?' Bella smirked. 'Fine.'

'How soon do you think―' he began, swiftly interrupted by Bellatrix waving her wand dismissively.

'However long it takes.'

'Fine.'

'And what about our little captive?' Bellatrix leaned in to him, her voice taking on that unmistakable excitement Draco had long since learned to associate with her darker side.

'Fine,' was all he said, and she paced away from him, as though disappointed by his lukewarm response.

'And my offer to―'

'―I haven't changed my mind.'

Bellatrix strode three long steps towards him, glaring at his words as though wanting to set them on fire and watch them burn.

'I only want to help, Draco!' Bellatrix's voice rang in his ears. That woman simply could not tone it down.

'I don't need help with this, Bella.' His answer was final, as compared to before, when he had thought about it but had only succeeded in going around in circles.

This was not a task for spells. This would take cunning and slyness: two things he had earned a right to use by now, since he thrived so well with both.

Bellatrix's hand clasped around his arm, squeezing it so that the mark began to fizzle and throb. It did not burn though, for Lord Voldemort was not angry, nor had he been summoned.

'I said I don't need it!' He jerked away from her, spinning around and preparing to storm away.

Bellatrix was already in front of him, blocking his way out.

'Draco, please, I want to help. I need to help.' A quiet settled outside the lounge; any eavesdroppers were no doubt scuttling away as Bellatrix fired a spell at the door that made it shake in it's frame.

'He will not let me, thinks I'm not good enough any more.' She really did sound hysteric. 'I need to prove myself Draco.' Her hands grasped his shirt, thumbs pressing against her fingers through the thin material.

'Bella, I'm sorry, but I know what I need to do―'

'But what about the―' As she spoke, Draco peeled himself away from her leech-like grip, staggering backwards.

'No.' Draco concluded their conversation, the door bursting open in a sudden gush of hallway air as Narcissa crossed the threshold.

'What's going on in here?' She addressed both with the kind of strict demeanour only a mother could use―and not be lied to there from.

'Aunt Bella is under the impression I cannot handle it on my own. She wants to interfere,' Draco replied, blunt honesty written on his face.

'Bella, I've warned you: keep out.'

'Cissy come on, how can I just sit here and let him make Draco do this? Bellatrix sounded sincerely concerned for her nephew, and that was what spoiled the lie. It was so out of character for Bellatrix that Narcissa almost laughed.

'You expect me to believe this is about Draco?'

Bellatrix's look swiftly bent and twisted into anger.

'Bella, this is about you. _You_ just want help in getting back into the Dark Lord's good books. Do not ask me to stand here and accept that you are truly worried for Draco.' Draco moved closer to his mother, the two against Bellatrix on this matter.

'Forgive me for acting the part of a responsible adult.' Bellatrix inched closer to her sister.

Their former sibling rivalry made a guest appearance: Bellatrix had used those very words against her sister more than once during their school days. Her tone made Narcissa shiver and Draco's eyes glaze over. He had never liked being in his Aunt's company when this side of her cropped up.

'Bellatrix, Draco knows what he's doing. I suggest you give him a chance,' Narcissa reasoned, her tone cold. The atmosphere wriggled about in the clutches of acidity, as Draco moved to leave.

'Oh and Bella, why did you misinform the elf?' Narcissa sat down on a padded chair, her hands clutching the sides of it.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' She sounded like child.

In light of her earlier remark about being an 'adult', Draco thought her comment was very ironic.

He excused himself, making sure to close the door fully on his way out.

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Luna awoke to hear muffled voices outside her room, although she made no move to press her ear against the door.

It was very late, perhaps not far past midnight, though she found sleep would not quite welcome her just then. She must have unfinished business. It was a frequent worry of Luna's, something many people reserved for their interchange between this world and the next. Would she die with things left unfinished? A thought not too merry to contemplate. But Luna had many theories on death, and that was just one. People who chose to remain in this world as ghosts often had something they had long left forgotten. But Luna knew that business would often finish itself, if it was important enough. If not, someone else would simply finish it for the deceased. There would be no need to come back as a ghost.

It would be a lovely homecoming though, wouldn't it? A reunion between families and friends who might have gone years without contact. All meeting together again in the next life: it lit Luna's path in life to imagine death would be like that.

'Lovegood.'

Luna looked up into Draco's moonlit face, and she was mildly surprised to see him up this late, but more surprised that he was down there. He looked like an odd sock in the dungeon.

'Hello, Draco.' she spoke softly, the light notes in her sing-song voice tinkling around the cell. It had often remained at least an octave higher than most other voices, supporting Luna's suspicion that she had once swallowed a flute as a child.

He set something down by her side, snapping his fingers to grab her attention, which, once again, had drifted up into the stars.

'It's late, but I'm under orders to feed you.' He pushed the thing (Luna now saw it was a tray full of lovely coloured food) practically under her nose. 'Eat.' He slumped against the wall, waiting.

'I'm not hungry,' was all Luna said. It was late and, despite going without a single meal for almost four days, she truly wasn't in the mood. Luna briefly wondered if this was how those muggle orphans must feel after a while of not eating; her body and it's needs seemed to be accommodating themselves to her time at Malfoy Manor. She had not been fed and so was no longer hungry.

She wondered what would happen if she became neglected. Would she become invisible?

His disbelief seemed to swathe her, until Luna, too, could not deny she sounded ridiculous.

But still, she did not eat, which only earned her a nasty look from Draco.

'I don't need this tonight.' He sighed, playing, Luna supposed, his pity card. 'My mother sent me down here to make sure you eat because she doesn't trust our elves anymore. Nobody knows if they're following her orders or Bellatrix's.'

He was watching Luna closely. She could tell for her skin seemed to burn, the way in which it did under careful observation.

'Just eat, you loon. I'm tired.' She made no move to do any such thing. If she were forced to live here, imprisoned and alone, then she would continue to rebel against their order. It had been so out of character for her to follow rules during her fifth year at Hogwarts; it seemed that was all she had done was break them. Oh yes, she had learned how to do that well by now, hadn't she? Luna Lovegood knew the depth of what lies meant and had learnt to crumble the enemy's order, crumble it up into tiny bite-size pieces that wouldn't be amiss on one of her Father's apple pies.

'Luna, do me a favour will you?' Draco moaned through the darkness, 'Eat.' His head melted into the stone bricks as he settled himself into a half-awake stance, his wand lolling against his leg.

'Get rid of it,' Luna offered, trying to please him, if not in the exact way he had asked for. 'Throw it out or vanish it. Don't worryI'll say it was lovely.' Her fingers twiddled strands of very straggly hair, unworking the knots and sorting out the mess that it had become: her hands like a spidery comb to unravel the worst of it.

Luna kept her eyes on the stars.

_Can you hear me?_ she thought, wishing they could. _I know you're ever so far away, but, help me... Please. I want to go home. If you lend me your powers, I promise to give them back... _

A gentle tear clawed its way out of Luna, softly casting a reflective sheen on her cheek as she stared up at the window.

Beside her, Draco was mumbling something about not trusting anyone these days, especially an order member. He was asking her to eat again, actually, nothis time it had that assertive ring to it. He was _telling, _not requesting.

'Thank you, by the way.' Luna's tears were beginning to feel what she could not. For the first time since she had been captured, Luna knew she was not going home. She had known it before then but had just not believed it. The tears began to shimmer in the moonlight, like the diamonds on a disco ball, and Draco saw them.

He said nothing, the result, Luna understood, of years of keeping his emotions locked up tight in a little round box (round for his eyes which, unlike everything else about him, were soft and orb-like). Luna did not blame Draco for not comforting her; she would only have been suspicious if he had.

The stars seemed to smile down at them: Luna not in control of her longing for freedom, and Draco. Cold, pointed Draco, forever letting his cruel insults mark the place of any compassion he might have. But he had helped her earlier. Luna had not thanked him at the time, but he had _helped_. If you were to line up the good and the evil and tell them to stand to the left or the right, to choose their side once and for all, Luna wondered which side he would choose. Perhaps Draco would stretch himself length ways and just _be _the line to separate the two instead.

Luna gazed up, and up and up, seeing more than stars. She saw the entire world up there.

_How did the line in that old Muggle story go again_... she thought, her tears finally allying themselves as one. In union, they smoothed her pale skin with one smooth waterline.

Petra Pan? No it was a boy, she was sure of it... Peter Pan! That was him. The boy who could not grow up. Ginny and Arthur had corrected Luna in saying that 'he only didn't _want_ to grow up'. Luna saw it differently: Peter had gotten himself lost, like _Alice through the Looking Glass_(a favourite story of Luna's), and as Luna had read the old Muggle tale, she had soon enough grasped the truth. Peter Pan did not want to grow up. He would not, therefore he could not.

_Where was his home again? The second star to the right, and straight on till morning._

Luna looked that star then, and felt she would not join Peter there even if such a place existed and, in Luna's mind, it did.

Good or Evil, right or left. It plagued her thoughts and made everything unreadable, messing things up much like the real battles of war would.

'Luna! Luna!' Draco was past impatience, not that it worried Luna in the slightest.

_Let him get mad_, she thought.

'Look, stop being difficult. It won't get you anywhere. Just eat the god damn food so I can go to bed, will you!'

He kicked the tray over to her, where a bowl of some strange mush dribbled down her bare foot. She wiped it off with an air of dislike. It reminded Luna of a shrub Neville had once shown her a picture of; with it's grey moss and protective thorns, it had seemed unpleasant.

But it was not 'a blood ugly mess', as had been Ron's sophisticated description. To Luna the protective front of it needed to be ugly. That way the seedling inside remained safe. Luna admired the plant for that, sacrificing its beauty for the sake of it's true treasure. She only wished the others had understood. Neville had seemed to, but she couldn't be sure if he had really been paying attention.

'Unless those teeth of yours are razor sharp, I'm not scared to force it down you. Just a warning!' Draco was closer now; Luna realised he was leaning over the tray to snarl at her.

She stopped watching the stars, shifting the object of her attention to Draco: Draco-gazing. She hoped that would not become a regular thing for her to do, he simply was not the most pleasant of things to look at when in a temper.

'I'm not hungry. You can eat it if you like,' she offered an alternative, which he, yet again, mumbled an excuse to dismiss it.

_'Second star to the right, to the right to the right...' _Luna sang to herself. Draco's eyes continued to roll as she avoided his glares: there might have been a small hamster running around in them.

Draco gripped her arms, his nails digging through her skin, and pushed her against the wall. Luna kept singing, though she began to do so inwardly.

'Stop. Being. Difficult.' Draco separated each word so that the resulting noise was just a block of angry sounds in Luna's ears.

He shoved her against the wall but did not hurt her. In fact the cool bricks felt lovely beneath her slender fingers as she gripped them, only noticing now how uneven they were. She could picture a lone bug wandering through the vertical maze endlessly, scuttling over mountains unnumbered.

'I said thank you, you know.'

'What?' Verging on the brink of losing the last of his patience, Draco looked as though he was defending himself against her, though she had done nothing for which he would need to do so.

'You helped me earlier.'

'I did, did I?' he sounded incredibly sardonic rather than grateful for her thanks. She thought that was rather rude.

'Yes. Thank you, it was very kind.' In all honesty, it had been. Luna believed it was.

'Well then, since you apparently owe me, can I ask you a favour Luna?'

She nodded yes, knowing what it would be, and making the contradictory decision to oblige.

'You're going to eat.' Draco's eyes harassed Luna. They dared her to disobey, and she would not rise to the challenge.

Luna sat down, taking a few sips of water first to prepare her dry mouth for the meal. Her stomach ached when she was done. It felt like a sandwich or pastry, but, being as dark a night as it was, Luna could not be sure as she never saw it. Probably something fixed at the last minute, with whatever the kitchen elves could get their hands on.

When she was done she cuddled into the wall, directly below the window, beneath the omnipresent moon, whose silver, whispery tendrils pervaded the four walls that cadged her. Draco got rid of the tray, and left the room, catching a quick glance of a sleeping Luna before the door concealed her behind it once again.

Luna's last concious thought was of him.

Luna was a good judge, and she did not ever take advantage of that, but with Draco it was hard not to. His character had always seemed simple, unimportant. But he had helped her twice now. As Luna grasped this, she also felt happier that she had had to repeat her thanks: one for each time, she mused.

Something had changed in Draco, not on the surface of things, not even in a way she could quite place yet, but Luna began to question her assumption of his mind being simple.

Her pre-bedtime business was now finished and Luna was free to dream what she may. _In her dream she grew magnificent wings of white, spreading out with ripples of cascading __feathers__ around her arms. _

_Luna flew away into the dark sky, her eyes lit up brighter than any star. Ahead of her, not too far away, she saw two stars nestled close together. Luna chose the second on the right and flew straight on, into the welcoming arms of a long awaited slumber._


	8. The Rat and the Prisoner

A/N: Sorry, I just realised how long I've gone without updating! Well here it is, chapter 8! I wasn't quite sure whether I was happy with how this one turned out towards the end or not. But bahh well, we'll see :) I've just spent 19818476473993939000 hours reading 'Bad Jokes' by Naturally Unlucky and 'Broken' by inadaze22. It took me a while to get through them both but they were just so brilliant I couldn't stop. I highly recommend both (the former is within the Batman - dark knight Universe and Broken is Draco/Hermione in Harry Potter!) Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

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Luna tossed around, feeling much more out of herself than she had in days.

Her sleeping patterns were quickly rearranging themselves into some senseless puzzle and, though she longed for them to return to the simple 'eyes-shut-and-let-the-dream-begin' state they had been for many years, she lacked the motivation to do much about it. And so it began: a frequent tug of war between her conscious mind and her dreamy inner thoughts. The two had become accustomed to each other over the years, never once mixing, but they still recognised their counterpart when they saw it. Now though, Luna was not so sure they would. Her dreams just fizzled away on the surface, often crossing that fine line which prevented Luna from recognising them for what they were. She began to wonder, whilst staring up at her high window, whether this was a whole long dream in itself. But he hair had grown, and in dreams it never grew. No. Luna Lovegood was not dreaming.

The cold nights of October were being admitted into Britain, she knew for the sky retained a golden colour at all times of the day now. It matched the same topaz-infusion of the falling Autumn leaves. It must have been weeks by then, since Luna last laid eyes on a tree.

_What was she becoming to her captors now?_ _A small breath locked in a room, a small heart with an irregular beat, a small girl lost in a time of murder and war. _Luna knew she was neither.

It had been at least a week since Draco had been in there and Luna was starting to feel invisible. Loneliness had never been too hard in school because she had never truly been alone, she must have stuck out a little too much, for people seemed to find it very difficult to not stare. Now though, she was both lonely and alone: now wasn't that just a fantastic duo?

She had spent her days doing three things; plaiting, twirling and combing. Thoughts really were diverse things after all.

From her room, the outside world seemed to be hovering between autumn and winter, lazily dancing on each side for a few days without making any real commitment. Luna wanted to smile at the likeness between the weather and herself. It was exactly as she imagined her views were playing out inside her head: storming ideas of anger at being captured and completely forgotten, a thundering cloud of bad musings where she would feel betrayed by the order: how could they have not realised? There was an impostor in their midst, and, despite hours spent in meetings making arrangements to avoid it, they had all been hoodwinked. All of them. Then would come the rain. Luna thought of her father, and of Ginny and Neville (her first true friends), and it would rain. Tears splashing on her cheeks, staining her dreamy composure with their sad rivers. When the storm of emotions had passed, then would come the time of tranquillity. The sun would not shine, nor would clouds rain. The climate would simply _be_. It would take no form. Just like Luna right then; she gazed at the wall with the intent of forcing the bricks to crumble, though they held themselves together. She willed her eyes to break them into shattered stone remains, but still they stood firm and proud. Some things in this life could simply not be broken.

Luna looked up to find the mid-morning sun casting it's rays, hooking them into the earth like an old man on a fishing boat would use bait. Luna was hooked. She watched the sun for hours: slowly creeping through the sky like the stubborn, unmoving hands of an old clock. They never ticked when watched. Luna wondered if that was what people meant when they said _time just stopped_.

Every couple of hours a tray of prisoner-inspired food was handed to her by Dolohov: Luna guessed, from his weary aura and slow movements when thrusting the food at her, that he now had his own little post in the house. Right outside the door of an imprisoned young woman. Luna wanted to laugh sometimes; it just astounded her that the death eaters were so afraid of her escaping.

'You know, I won't try anything if you want a bit of rest,' She offered to Dolohov. She knew he had heard her from the ungrateful grunt that followed.

'You must be tired. Though I suppose this place makes it feel like night all the time. I think your eyes might be adjusting themselves to the light, you know. You want to be careful of that. You'll be acting like a bat soon enough.' she informed him. He seemed to be dozing off. She hoped her company, or what there was to offer of it, was not disturbing him to the point of sleepiness.

'Would you like to play a game, maybe?' Luna did not wait for a response, though she was pretty sure what it would have been, before launching into a wide and expansive list of games for the two to have a shot at. With each new suggestion she could feel his face stiffen a little more.

'Or if you don't enjoy spot the swizzle, we could sing...I've not heard you sing yet. That might be fun...' she hummed a soft song, hoping to get him in the mood. God only knows the dungeons could do with a little lightness to brighten their dim atmosphere.

Luna's own voice was the only sound. She gave him the benefit of the doubt and just assumed he was shy, and not being deliberately unfriendly.

'How long will I stay here?' she asked him.

The Death Eater seemed to sigh, as if he knew what was coming. 'Not my problem, so I don't know.'

Luna wanted to ask the question that had stuck itself on her tongue, she needed the answer but feared it all the same. 'Do you think I'll die?'

Dolohov shuffled, his feet not quite sure where they were supposed to go: he had never been one for talking to prisoners like her: The ones who asked questions.

'I don't know.'

In that moment, his words sounded strained, fearful and it led Luna to consider the possibility that maybe Dolohov had not even considered the fate of this unfortunate prisoner. He was probably not the only one left out of such information. The Death Eaters had multiplied into their hundreds by now, but Luna knew, from something Harry had said once, not all had been appointed that oh so desired position which entitled them to a large black tattoo on their forearm. Had Dolohov's arm been burned with the very same mark? She was not sure, and did not want to offend him by asking.

'I don't either. Strange that I suppose, isn't it?' Luna mused, speaking in a tone one would normally reserve for an old friend.

'Huh?'

Luna watched the door, waiting to hear him start shuffling around uncomfortably, she knew he would. He might already be doing so, but just had quiet feet.

'How even we, as different as we are, still have things in common.'

There was silence from outside.

'I think everyone has that one thing though don't they? Not truly having any control over our future.' Luna sighed with heavy understanding. 'You're going to die too. Maybe not in a dungeon as I might, but someday. You can't change that, you know. Death Eater or not. No dark magic can match death, not in the end.' She still held her gaze with the door, wondering if he could perhaps feel her hard stare through the wood.

A quiet scuttling around in the corner caught her attention. The soft pitter-pattering of claws on stone, reminded her she was sharing the room with other, smaller inhabitants. A small rat clawed at the wall, he must have been in here for days for he seemed incredibly skinny for a rodent; Luna knew they had lager appetites than most other animals: The Fat Friars of the animal world, as Luna thought of them.

Except she just couldn't imagine rats bursting into a chorus of Jingle-Wands during the yuletide festivities. She had always suspected the Hufflepuffs of wearing extra padded earmuffs close to Christmas: the Friar simply did not have a very likeable voice, despite being a very likeable ghost.

Luna watched this rat with an air of suspicion. He seemed far too well adjusted (as mad as that sounded) to moving his way around. In fact, if she squinted into the wall's shadow in which he dwelled, she would have sworn he was walking around in circles. Just like a mad man. A mad man with a purpose.

'Hello.' she whispered to him.

A small set of eyes gleamed back at her. They seemed to know she was powerless to hurt the rodent.

'Are you lost?', he stopped his circling, choosing, instead, to watch this curious new specimen. 'I haven't met any of your family. Are you alone?' she crawled over to him, forgetting her talk with Dolohov. He must think she had finally lost it by now. Talking to herself. Whatever next?

He did not frighten her, as unappealing as he clearly was, for she had lived, and was living, through one of the worst wizarding wars in history. She had seen far worse than a starved rat.

Luna kneeled before the poor old thing, bending down so that her hair fell in a shower over the two of them: as though they were about to discuss a most secretive topic and should not be heard.

The rat's eyes seemed to peer, untrusting, and somehow distrustful. She had a gut feeling this small creature would not be one of her more friendly pets. But she was lonely, and for that reason alone Luna would try to get along with him. Slowly, because he seemed like the type to be easily frightened (his slowly widening eyes told her so), Luna held out a finger. For a split second he seemed to contemplate eating it and she wondered if the darkened room had made her cheese-like. Did rats eat cheese though? She was not sure.

But then the hungry look went from his eyes and with it, his guard he had held up against her. Luna's palms pressed gently into the floor and she opened them up, leaving a small valley into which he could crawl. She scooped him, and held him carefully, though not too much so. She did not want to frighten him after all.

'You're lovely aren't you?' she smoothed the tuft of fur close to his ear with her thumb. It was rough and ragged, she noted. Nothing like she would expect of an animal around winter, when many would grow thick luscious coats. She had always loved petting Crookshanks during the Christmas holidays at the burrow. Would she see the next Christmas? Just a few months to go. Yes, Luna believed she would.

The rat, whom she was currently deciding on a name for, nuzzled her thumb with his long nose. He was incredibly ugly, Luna noticed with honesty. She did not mean it to be unkind, it was merely the truth. His eyes, which she now spotted small watery droplets lingering around, were weak and helpless. He was no threat at all.

Luna hummed them a soft song, swaying in time to a tune that played in her ears only.

_'For you only_...' she sang. Her voice melting into the hard exterior of the rat, as he settled down into a shabby ball.

The rat slept. His untrusting eyes slipping shut very quickly.

Luna's mind began to work, she needed to try an escape. There would be no guarantee, but then again she had a better chance of escaping if she actually tried, instead of sitting patiently for an opportune moment to stroll casually across her path.

First there was a decision. Aided or unaided? Would it even be worth looking for help amidst an overwhelming abundance of enemies?

That was made quickly enough, for she had nobody in this house who had earned themselves a trustworthy tick next to their name. She would go it alone.

Then what was there....Means? Would she escape from the room, or hope to be allowed to venture into the house again?

That was unlikely. She would find a way out of the room on her own.

Door or window? The only two ways available to her.

Directly out the window, and she would have a likelier chance of succeeding. The only problem with that though, was that she was in a dungeon, and any window would only be followed by landing by someone's feet. Plus, she was no giant and, at least last time she had checked, Luna's legs were still only a touch longer than average.

And then time, day or night? Night she would likely go undetected, but what if the Malfoy's were smarter than that? Surely that would be when she would be expected to try anything. Plus it would be harder to see anything, and without her wand she....

Luna's thoughts halted like a broom crashing back down to earth. Why was she doing this? This was Hermione thinking, it was logical and structured. Not like Luna at all. True, it might come in handy in helping her escape, but then in thinking like it she may miss points her regularly perceptive mind would not.

For a second time, Luna made the decision her way.

She smiled down to her new friend, as his tiny chest rose and fell in perfect sync with her own. 'I'll wing it.'

The rat's (whom Luna had named Tinpaw, due to the strange metallic look of one of his front paws) heart leaped around, she could practically feel it as he arose some time later. He frantically began an inventory of his surroundings, and upon seeing the person in whose hands he lay, he bit Luna sharply on her finger until she let him go.

He backtracked into his corner once again, not looking at Luna until he was securely away form her. Two watery eyes revealed his whereabouts though Luna made no move to approach him again. She moved back to the door, waiting to hear the struggled breathing of Dolohov beneath his dark cloak and mask.

'Who are you talking to?' he demanded, upon hearing her approach.

Luna meant to say Tinpaw, but a quick glance at him told her not to. He had begun his scarpering around once again, circling around as though his life depended on it. Luna did not know why, exactly, but she had a feeling he did not want to be found.

She would sound mad and she knew it: 'Just myself. It helps organize your head.'

'Organize? You're bloody bonkers you are girl!' he spat, though not without something of a laugh to accompany it.

She would try to talk to Dolohov, since that was more than he had said to her so far during her stay.

'Can I please ask you something?'

'No'.

'Please?' she hoped he would humour her at least, for that was all she really wanted right now.

'What the bloody hell do you want little girl?' snapped the Death Eater. His tone did not discourage her.

'What does Voldemort have that you find so valuable?' this was followed by lots of coughing form the other side of the prison door.

'What right have you to-' Dolohov stuttered, though his calm, cocky composure began to fail him.

'You follow him. I'm only asking why?' Since Draco had failed to give a satisfying answer to the same question, Luna had decided she would look elsewhere. It was a very intriguing topic to say the least.

'Went to Hogwarts did you?' he asked, hinting he was getting at something bigger than just school-talk.

Luna smiled remembering her time there. 'Yes, I went.'

'And were you popular with your friends?'

'For four years I didn't have friends.' she said, blunt as could be.

There was an edge in her voice she had never really paid any attention to before. Was Luna angry? Surely not. It was silly to be mad for not having a true friend for years. After all who could she possibly be mad at...herself?

It was an edge, it was not ignorable, but Luna decided she was not mad.

'Loner eh? Haven't changed much have you..' she could not see him, but he was smirking and she knew it. That annoyed Luna.

She responded with silence.

'Well, there'll have been an in-group. One who taught the others their place, you know the sort.' Luna did know.

Her eyes stayed on the rat in the corner for a while; watching him watching her. He circled around and then some. Luna noticed his eyes did not look dizzy at all despite his monotonous walking pattern.

'That's what you think he is then? A popular school boy?' Luna surprised even herself with the spite which poured out through her words.

'Of course not you silly little girl! The Dark Lord is much more than such a mundane title.' Pride, pride, pride. He sounded like a Father of an overachiever. Lord Voldemort might have just received eighteen Outstanding OWL's. 'But he has the same appeal.'

'You mean he draws you in?'

Luna had never been a part of any 'crowd' in school (Dumbledore's army could not be counted as such a simple, ordinary thing. It had been so much more. Plus, they had hardly been popular.) But Luna had watched her classmates with well-trained eyes. She saw the admiration the girls and boys showed one another and it was usually very easy to pick out the alpha males in each pack. They were the ones who appeared calm and relaxed in most situations, when their friends always seemed to look for their support before speaking. It was not an obvious thing to spot really and, had Luna been surrounded with friends of her own, she would not have been able to pay half as much attention. Over the years, though, she had soon interpreted the way in which such alpha's worked their given magic: Lure them in, test their loyalty, use it for their own means, and then (more often than not) swap them for a new friend. She had never liked the way it happened, but found it interesting enough to watch. It was just like how older women used their jewellery. Bright, shiny, interesting little things always got the most attention.

'Draws us in?' he scoffed. Dolohov laughed with a new kind of funky chuckle. The years seemed to drop off his voice as he laughed. 'We're not bloody players in a game girl, you know!'

'I didn't mean that. I meant, well, would you still have respect for him if he were less popular?'

The Death Eater laughed quite horribly at her observation. She knew he was probably just a rusty chuckler: one they started it was never easy to get them to stop.

'Popular? That's what you call him is it?'

'Well, I suppose you would use a more respectful word but it's the same idea as what you were saying. About school. If those wizards weren't as popular, people would see them differently.' Luna pondered whether she should ask her next question, only for a short while of course. Then it came out anyway. 'Do you ever wish you'd not turned over to the dark side?'

He stopped laughing and leaned into the wall. Luna heard the thud that confirmed it.

'Yes.'

He was telling the truth.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was late into the night when the switch occurred, much to Luna's befuddlement. She was having trouble sleeping, no surprises there, and she awoken from her dreamy state in the same moment that two cloaks swished together outside her door. Two males exchanged brief words, then she was sure it was Dolohov that left.

'Hello.' Whispered Luna, pick and mixing her choice of who the voice might belong to. For a moment, and no longer, she fancied it was Neville or Ron. Not Harry, for he would be busy with his girlfriend cuddling under a duvet somewhere. That was why she ruled out Ron quickly, too. He would not leave Hermione in these sad times.

The make-believe hope could not stay, for the gruff reply deflated it easily.

'I'm down here for peace Lovegood. Not to pretend I'm your friend.' Draco moaned, she heard him conjure a chair and set it down somewhere by her door. She wondered how it felt to sit down like that, of his own free will. Luna had not done so in a while.

She was happy to hear his voice, for he was probably the closest resident to her in age in the whole house, but a nagging feeling told her not to overdo the welcome. If she scared him off with her bright voice he might wonder why she was so happy, and where would that lead? Probably a thorough examination of her room to check the bricks for scratch marks. Nails might be considered dangerous for her to have as an escape. They had always been long, and long nails would make much more progress in scratching away at stone than regular blunts.

Luna would talk to him soon. But for now the clouds seemed to be too beautiful to ignore. Night-clouds, outlined in silver and drifting ever so smoothly across the sky. They moved so slowly they could in fact just be floating, not going anywhere, not moving at all.

Draco unlocked Luna's door after about an hour and, as he stepped inside, something about his expression worried her. She had seen it before but could not place when. He sat in the doorway, lodging his chair between the gap and the open door, propping it open, and looked at her. Not speaking. Hardly even breathing. He seemed to be deciding whether or not she was real.

'I want to talk.' He said, after simply staring for over two minutes of silence; during which, Luna felt her body stiffen to match Draco's low breathing.

He said it simply, with no hint of amusement or frivolity. It was good enough for Luna, who made her mind up that he was not joking around. 'You sound like you need it too. Your throat sounds bad, you should exercise it more. Personally I think you sound a lot darker, if that's what you're going for, but if you're not then I'd try honey. It works wonders on your throat you see. Bees lose their ability to speak in human tongue when they make it for us: all the pollen makes their brains go a little off, you know? That's how it helps your throat, so don't be worried if you feel an urge to make a sort of buzzing sound. It'll just be bee voices your borrowing for a while.'

Luna rounded off her little speech with a careful smile, not too friendly, not too mocking. Just in the middle so he would not think she was barking, as she already assumed was his impression.

'Are you messing with me?', the intimidation he had tried to bring out wouldn't work quite right. It was as if his bad throat (which was due to not speaking a word for over a week) had caused him to lose all sense of tone. He reminded Luna of a singer when they began to talk normally, when they lost that little spark form their chime-like words, and suddenly sounded human. Draco, just for that first moment as his voice adjusted, sounded incredibly normal. In Luna's truthful opinion, it was the nicest he had ever sounded.

'No you're not silly enough to play games. Seriousness comes with a catch you know, once you start talking and acting like an adult it's hard to go back to being a child again. Not that you'd want to of course...' she said. He stared again.

And stared, and stared. Feeling like a wild animal caught in a trap, Luna began to join in the competition. He would probably lose, for she was particularly gifted at not blinking for a reasonable length of time.

'How do you do it?' Draco asked, his arms folding over in his lap, one hand sliding his wand out of view. Coupling her common sense with the fact he had now blinked, thereby losing the contest anyway, Luna had a feeling Draco was talking about more than her unblinking eyelids.

'What?' Luna asked.

He sighed in frustration, 'Oh, come off it! I mean your in a cell, with no friends, you have no idea where your family is or if they're even alive-' Luna's eyebrows swept up out of sight; Draco sure did like to look on the bleak side. '-you've been out of sunlight for days and have barely eaten more than a bunch of apples since you got here-'

Oh, Luna thought to herself, it was not pastry after all.

'-you don't even know what's going on _out there, _and you seem perfectly calm with the idea of a Death Eater casually talking to you at about two in the morning. How have you not broken up yet?' he finished with putting slight emphasis on his last few words. He seemed to think Luna would break sometime. She would prove him wrong.

'Broken up? Draco I think it takes a little more than simply being a prisoner to make someone totally lose themselves.' She tried to look at him and see a boy. Not a Death Eater, not even an enemy. Simply a boy. One who had clearly been through enough to make him paranoid beyond normality, and had lost his innocent perspective of the world along the way.

'You're not scared?' He expected her to say yes, and she would be truthful.

'Yes, I'm scared.'

Relief flickered across his face. _So_, Luna imagined him thinking, _she's human after all_.

'But, people don't always break up because they get scared Draco.'

'Oh no?' challenging her, Draco quirked an eyebrow. It made a curvy sort of arch that looked like a reinvention of the legendary Himalayas. He had a few freckles too, Luna spotted. So faint that she imagined he had not even noticed them himself before. There were only a couple, and Luna saw them as backpackers. Hiking tirelessly up the various peaks of the mountain as Draco's brow furrowed and straightened. She had not even realised him lean in until he was about three or so inches away, his wand the only thing separating them as equals, for Luna still had none.

Neither, she realised, had she bothered to question how he knew she would not attempt to escape. There he was, in the doorway leaving a good few feet for her to slip past. Luna questioned it now, as she looked into his eyes with a new kind of curiosity. Draco looked like he had broken down already. A good few miles ahead of her on the path to emptiness, she noted.

His lips parted and she could see the dusty outline as cold air met warm breath. It had a dreamy kind of wispy thing going on that she liked watching as he continued to breath through his lips. Clearly frustrated.

'Well then Luna, just how scared are you?'

Suddenly she found the backpacking, pale freckles stop, at a standstill, at the same time the dusty wisps seized.

'Scared enough to question some things.' said Luna, 'But brave enough to still trust myself.'

Luna did not lie but, then again, would she have noticed if she did?


	9. When There's Hope

A/N: Here it is, a insanely overdue 9th chapter, and for that wait I'm very very sorry. Updates should be weekly or even sooner, but since I've lost my beta it's been taking me a lot longer to edit this than the first few chapters. Please please please review! They mean so much to me.

_I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

* * *

They stayed like that for a while, although the comfort of their previous discussion had left them so it was in silence that they continued into the night. Luna liked conversation, but every now and then silence was just as good so she decided against breaking it. Besides it was one of those relaxing silences and those were always nice. What she didn't understand was why Draco wasn't making the effort to talk. He'd already displayed how paranoid he could be about the idea of her escaping while under his watch, and sign of tiredness were beginning to show on him. Surely he'd rely on conversation to keep him awake and alert. Unless of course he was hoping she'd eventually fall asleep instead, leaving him free to wind down a little.

Sooner or later though slumber has a way of creeping up on you, and Luna was no different to anyone else in that respect. It felt like she'd evaded a good sleep for a while now and for some reason then felt like as good a time as any to just let it take her. She'd wish later that she'd never bothered.

_She ran recklessly, her long red dress becoming tangled in the countless branches that reached out to snatch at her. Ripples of material tore at the bottom, leaving the front of her legs exposed as the wind blew her dress angrily into the wind, into the darkness behind her, into the night. Not far behind her she could make out a feebly glowing candle as she took a brief look back. It stood out in the forest: creamy, fiery white, hopeful, pure..._

_In averting her eyes from where she was headed, she let the root of an aging tree succeed in tripping her up. The forest floor came to life around her in a menacing manner. Soon leaves and grass (all were black so it was difficult to make out what was what) began to gather about her sprawled body, submerging her into darkness until she could see nothing but black. They pinned her down, making it impossible to escape. The ground grew hot, she screamed hard but no real sound could escape her lips, she tried harder but the effort was too much and soon enough her attempts to escape seized completely. That's when the wind grew angry. In a gust of pure force it obliterated the nature keeping her trapped. It slapped her fragile body hard, whisking it up into the night air where she began to tremble with panic. Then it cooled and merely rocked her around, slowly and steadily. It was almost like being at sea. Why did the wind feel so lovely and cool, compared to the forest floor? How could flame and frost exist so closely without cancelling the other out? And perhaps most importantly, why did the wind have skin so pale?_

* * *

'Wake up!' Draco shouted, glaring at soft eyes clenched so tightly and fearfully that he felt half mad expecting any reaction. She seemed to be trying to block out something. Silly really he mused. If she opened her eyes she wouldn't see all that much to fear anyway: just the darkness of the dungeon.

Luna writhed on the cold stone floor, her hands dangling loosely at her sides as Draco shook her harder. He tried covering her mouth but that just seemed to make it worse as she screamed more. If he was perfectly honest, he'd never felt more stupid in his life. How could he possibly be growing more infuriated with a girl that wasn't even consciously doing anything to anger him?

It was as this thought crossed his mind that he registered her hand, tightly wrapping its small, thin fingers around his thumb. Compared with hers, his looked worthy of a giant. For a second he let her hold it but that was neither because it pleased him and nor was it to comfort her. It was simply late, and it took him a second longer than it normally would to acknowledge her touch. But when he did, something snapped. He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her up (which, he did notice, took practically no effort at all), and shoved her hard into the wall. He wasn't sure why he did it. She gave him a startled expression, looking like she'd been framed for something. He did not bother to consider why he'd reacted like that, but instead rose to his feet and left, closing the cell door behind him on the way. Jerkily, thus making it screech across the stone, he moved his chair back to where it had started, offering only one glance at Luna, who looked as though she didn't know what to do with herself. After considering it for a second or two Draco then moved his chair as far as he could from her cell without actually needing to look at her.

* * *

'Draco?' She asked into the darkness, half expecting a shadow of sorts to reply. It wasn't the really 'black' kind of dark, but the one with a bluish tint that signalled the fast approaching morn. It also told Luna it would be a cloudy day. An orangey darkness would have meant they were due for sunshine. She learnt to spot the difference between the two from months of wakening before the sunrise. How she wished the room would glow orange right then.

For some reason, she felt excluded from something. Her back hurt from when she'd clearly been shoved into the wall, and that's what befuddled her. It seemed harsh for Draco, a little too harsh. The worse he'd done to her until then was just grab her hair a little too roughly, but even that had been somewhat gentle.

She tried again since no reply seemed likely to come, 'Draco?'

She knew he'd heard her, and pretty much knew he wasn't going to respond now but tried again anyway. _Let's make it a hat-trick_, she thought.

'Draco?' Silence answered her for the third time.

He was not going to talk to her again that night, or morning (whichever you wanted to call it), and she only wanted to know why.

Though she had nothing to lose by repeating his name over and over, which, she was aware, would probably have been an easy way to get a response, she didn't bother. That wasn't Luna. She believed the right to have time to think was something nobody should have taken away, and since Draco wasn't talking and had nothing else in the dungeon to look at, it was safe to assume that he was indeed thinking, so Luna left him to it.

It was a further few hours or so, or at least felt like it, until footsteps sounded at the other end of the corridor signalling another switch in watching duty. She hoped it would be Dolohov since that might mean at least some freshness of conversation.

Unfortunately it wasn't. Although the sight of Professor Snape, at that moment, lifted her spirits more than the sight of Dolohov could have.

'Long night Draco?' he stopped a distance between them both, although slightly closer to her.

'Mmm?' Draco mumbled, then not a moment later his ears must have begun to work again for she heard him grunt in a 'yeah' sort of way.

'I'm sorry to say there's no time to sleep now, he wants to see you,' Professor Snape said. Then, after a quick glance in Luna's direction, he added '-now.'

Draco didn't reply but only headed off in the opposite direction to where Snape had come, meaning he passed Luna en route, though did not make any effort to remove his eyes from the floor as he sauntered past. He looked like a zombie, only not quite as dead as the ones you heard about in muggle tales.

'That difficult to control are you?' Snape asked in a way that meant no answer was needed.

He opened the door, brought in the chair that Draco previously occupied, and left the door open. He placed the chair next to Luna who swayed her body forwards until she knelt on her knees, using her arm for support.

'Professor, I don't understand. Are you working for Harry, and the Order?' (Luna wasn't sure why she felt a need to make a distinction between the two, they were one in the same after all).

'Miss Lovegood, I don't believe this is the time for that discussion, and given that we are currently sitting in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, I think you'll agree this isn't the place either.'

'Can you help me?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I take it you imply by means of helping you escape?'

Her eyes widened with undefeated hope. _Please say yes_, she thought, _oh God please say yes_...

'I'm afraid-'

_What an optimistic opening_, she thought.

'-I cannot Miss Lovegood. Your purpose here is one of great importance to the Dark Lord, as I'm sure you've gathered, the longer you remain here, the longer Miss Parkinson can occupy your place in the order. It's imperative he retains a spy within their midst, the Dark Lord is irrefutable in the matter.' Luna's heart sank a fair drop back into reality.

'If you were to be released, there is no guarantee Miss Parkinson will make it back to her family.' He added as an afterthought.

'The order wouldn't hurt her,' she began.

'These are dark times Miss Lovegood, in fact I believe the term dark to be something of an understatement now.' 'Mr Potter is unpredictable, and though not too noticeable on the surface, he is showing signs of passion, passion I believe the war has brought out in him. His actions tell it all. He believes he is ready to defeat the Dark Lord. If you take into account the enormity of the scale of war this has become, there is no guarantee the passion to make progress would not result in him cursing a death eater if they were to be unexpectedly revealed within the circle of people he trusts.' Snape stood, motioning for Luna to follow him.

'I believe you're required upstairs Miss Lovegood.'

She tried to push herself up, but her legs refused to cooperate, and her eyes began to see a throng a funny shapes. As soon as she rose, she slumped back down.

Snape seemed to understand what was wrong. He offered her his arm, although his face showed no sign of companionship to go along with the gesture.

Together they left the dungeon, Snape leading, and he didn't seem half as nervous as Draco, Luna noted: she was allowed to walk on her own, with no shackles and for that she was grateful.

'Where are we going Professor?' she asked politely, both out of curiosity and a strange urge to make conversation with the only person in this house who still seemed to regard her as a human being, not just some prisoner.

'To greet the Dark Lord, he is taking up residence here for a few days'

Puzzled, Luna continued, 'But why must I go too? It hardly seems fitting that prisoners should greet guests.'

Snape smirked a little at that: trust her to compare the darkest wizard in the world to a mere house guest.

'Oh I believe he has some business you can assist with.'

She did not like the sound of that at all.

* * *

The room could have held at least a hundred people without a single one of them brushing against someone else.

However once Luna entered behind Snape, and saw who stood in the centre, it looked instantly full. It wasn't that he was scary, just that with such a dominating presence, Lord Voldemort's character seemed to take up a space all of it's own: too much power to be all nestled up in one body.

His eyes pierced hers, and she couldn't help but look away. It felt like he was reading her mind. Snape grabbed her wrist with quite a strong hold and it startled her. He brought her to sand before Voldemort whose eyes never left hers.

'You are Luna Lovegood, daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood.' It wasn't meant as a question, and so Luna did not respond.

'Your father is currently researching in Australia, and you are aware of his business.' Luna felt as though he was just enlightening her on his thoughts, and so resolved to just stand there patiently, thought it was hardly as though she had a choice anyway. He spoke like a snake; an obvious thing to perceive but the resemblance between him and the serpents was just too blatant for it to go unnoticed. Luna was not scared of him.

His wand, she noticed, looked like his hand had grown it itself. Next to his long thin fingers, it looked quite at home. She wondered when had been the last time he'd put it down.

'You are not an important member of the order, and play an insignificant part in whatever role they attempt to fulfil in this so called 'war'.'

'We are all a part of this war. Nobody more important than another, you merely fight harder, so you feel more important.' She didn't think before speaking, because she didn't really see the point, he was probably reading her thoughts anyway. A small, almost camouflaged intake of breath from behind told her Snape had not left her yet.

Voldemort's face relaxed.

'Your father is due to arrive back in the country in a few weeks, either you can help us before he returns or we'll take him too.'

She did not understand.

Watching Snape out the corner of her eye, she saw him mutter something, perhaps he would be expected use Legillimens on her at this point.

She only thought it best to ask, 'What do you need my father for?'

She wasn't even expecting an answer, and so it did give her a little surprise when he replied with what she assumed was honesty. 'Two years ago he published an article on the influence of dark magic throughout the world. He mentioned a pendant and I know you will know just as much about it as he did. It belonged to an aged wizard, who remained hidden in the mountains of Tibet. I wish to find the wizard he came across, and to do that I need your father's research.'

'He keeps all his research at home, where he edits the paper.' Luna said without thinking once.

Oops, was that bad? Did she care? Yes, she did. But it was hardly giving away a lot was it?

'This is where I require you, or your fathers… assistance'. That word put a dark spin on a sentence that Luna would have otherwise interpreted as merely business-like. This sounded like personal business now.

'You don't need my help to break into my own house.'

'No, I don't. But I can gather from your thoughts that your father's research isn't much organised.' He began to move forward as he spoke, until he stood right in front of her.

'You'll know what to look for and where to look for it.' Then Voldemort turned to Snape. 'Take her there now, ad be back within the hour.'

'My Lord, perhaps it would be better for me to accompany the others. I think you'll agree their last 'effort' was hardly worth being entitled as such'.

He seemed to contemplate Snape's words half-heartedly, from the look on his face (which Luna thought looked practically inhuman).

'Yes you're right.' He announced a minute later. 'Draco can take her instead.'

The great door behind her swung open and in strode Bellatrix, Narcissa, Draco and two young men who both looked to have seen a harder life than even Luna had from the past few days. Bellatrix looked straight at Voldemort and Luna knew she was practically invisible to the mad death eater right then.

Snape motioned Draco over to him, who himself looked a lot more tired than anyone else in the room. He looked worse than this morning now that she could make out his face in the light, or at least the minute portion of light the room contained.

Removing her watch from Draco, Luna averted her eyes to stare instead at an old table that looked to be made of hazel wood. Luna hoped it was, because those lovely trees were know to be harvesters of wisdom, and since she had no inkling towards Voldemort's need for the man in Tibet, a little extra wisdom couldn't hurt.

As Snape muttered what he needed Draco to do, they looked like they could merely be making small talk as Snape made casual gestures to people around the room, and Draco nodded in response. Draco's face showed no sign of how he felt about accompanying Luna, so she wasn't sure whether she should look forward to visiting home or not. After all, returning there with a Death Eater (Harry had told them Draco had already received his dark mark), could hardly be considered a pleasant way to go back.

That's when Luna's mind began to work. Apparently, like her body, it had been drained of usefulness the last few days. This could be her chance, if she let it. If, as it sounded, it would only be her and Draco making the journey, then her chances of escaping were pretty strong.

The only thing against her was that Draco would obviously be carrying a wand, whereas she still had no idea where hers had got to. Although if she looked at it that way, she had the fact they were going to her house, where she would be on home ground, on her side. Magic against familiarity, she stood a good chance against him.

It wasn't until Draco began to leave and Snape mouthed her to follow him that she realised she had another weakness: weakness itself. Her limbs felt tired and overused, despite the fact all she'd done was sit on a cold floor for days. Luna wanted to shake herself out of it so badly, she needed to think positive. She could escape, but not if she felt defeated from the beginning. It gave her walk more bounce, and it was with her head held high that she walked out the door: the prospect of freedom seeming to lighten the weights pulling her body down.

Though she didn't know it, the dungeon's magic was growing weaker the stronger she made herself feel.

The door thudded behind her and she was left facing what she could have easily mistaken for a statue. Draco did not look well at all.

'Follow me.' he said. What else did he expect her to do, grow wings and fly on ahead?

They moved briskly, Luna's step with more bounce than his. She didn't want to appear too pleased though, otherwise she knew that would give the game away.

He stopped at a brown door just behind the first bend they past after leaving the room. He reached inside and pulled out a long length of cloak, then shut the door and walked on again. He didn't even look to check that Luna was still following.

Once they arrived at the entrance he turned and flicked his wand down at his wrist, then to Luna's, and back to his own. A fine metallic chain appeared, thought it was too tiny to even see the chinks loop around each other. He gently pulled at it and Luna felt her wrist being tugged along: for a tiny thing it sure seemed strong.

She looked at him. 'I wasn't planning on escaping you know. In case you haven't noticed, I still don't have a wand.' That might have been the first lie Luna had ever told.

'Don't let go.' He said simply. His words weren't giving away any more than his face. Luna half fancied his brain had been devoured by bed bugs last night. From what she could guess right then he didn't have any more personality in his whole body than a tree branch.

His words were the same as Neville's had always been, yet they were so distant she felt he shouldn't have even bothered. But Draco wouldn't mean them in a caring, requesting way like Neville had. No, when Draco used them they were meant simply as an order: One that, for obvious reasons, she had no intention of disobeying.

She wondered what it was she wasn't supposed to let go of a moment before he grasped her wrist in his hand. Together they squeezed into air that felt so tight it gave the sensation of being forced into a container from Snape's potion cupboard back at school.

It was strange apparating with Draco, and when they landed on a field just a few minutes walk from Luna's home, she couldn't help pretending it was that very night a few days ago. Only this time, instead of being surrounded by other disguised order members, they were completely alone. She found it hard to pretend Draco was really Harry though; he just had a knack for that sinisterly calm expression that Harry just couldn't quite replicate, even with the use of the same facial features.

'Come.' Draco called from a few feet away. She hadn't even noticed him move and only just registered the brief tugging feeling when he jerked a little harder on that fine chain. Luna looked down on the chain: another problem to sort out if she were to escape.

They set off for her home, Luna's mind taking the journey with them, and the more they walked the harder she began to search for an idea that could lead her to freedom. In a simple world she would just ask to be let go, but simple it was not, not on the face of things anyway.

Her house looked complicated on the outside, peeking along the horizon as they grew close to home. She saw a light in a bedroom and wondered if anyone had been there since she left. She couldn't recall leaving a single light on after she last left. It was one of the upstairs bedrooms; hers from what she could tell. Assuming they were approaching in the right direction.

'Have people been here?' She inquired, hastening her feet a little so she could talk to Draco from his side rather than a way behind: he liked to take long, strong strides and Luna's feet needed a good two or three steps to match one of his.

'Yes.' He stretched the word out a fraction of a second longer than necessary, and Luna sensed she wasn't welcome to ask any more questions.

The distance was quickly tightening itself as they walked faster. Rather than grow tired, the walk seemed to spur Draco on and soon Luna was almost running to keep up. She imagined the length of field left to her gate was like an elastic band, quickly springing back on itself in one huge unexpected lurch. Sure enough a moment later, or at least that's what it felt like, they stood before her front door.

Draco pushed at it.

'You might need the-' Luna began to propose, before the door gave in with one long, loud creak, that echoed around her garden.

Despite the fact she was home, Luna resisted the urge to run headlong into the house, slam the door shut behind her and pretend she was merely arriving back from a long weekend away. However Draco's hand on her shoulder told her all she needed to know: he was taking no chances in her escaping. She would say he was paranoid, but this time he was dead on the money. He could hardly be frowned upon for worrying over something Luna knew he was right to worry about. She was leaving here without Draco. Bits and bobs of possibilities fluttered around her head and soon enough she had too many plans to choose one over another, the only problem was, each seemed more unlikely than the next. Simple reasoning with him wouldn't work, and she knew her wand would not be at her home, since she'd been miles away from there anyway when she'd lost it.

A distraction may work, but how? She scanned her brain like a ravenous librarian, hungry for knowledge. What would do the trick? Trick... trick...

Trick.

She had it.

'It's upstairs,' she pointed to the spiral staircase dominating the majority of the downstairs space.

'I can go up first if you like.' She offered, but from the frown Draco replied with she continued on, 'Look, I'm hardly a wild animal.' Luna shook her wrist; making the chain tinkle, demonstrating to him that there was no need to worry. And though he maintained his frown, he let her go up first.

They stopped on the second floor for a moment: she just had to check her father hadn't moved it since she'd been staying at the burrow. It was unlikely but she made sure anyway.

'Next one up.' Luna whispered importantly, as though fearful that unwanted ears lurking around the house may hear them.

'Now it should be up here, but just in case, you might want to check in his room. There's a padlocked case at the end of his bed and-' but Draco cut her off.

'No way, we're not splitting up. We can look here first then go up.'

Luna treaded carefully; she didn't want him to feel like she was doing all the talking, otherwise he may think she had planned it all too well.

'It's just he made it sound like it was important we get back quickly, and it's already taken us a quarter of an hour to get this far.' He wasn't looking too convinced.

'Ok then you're right. We can do this quickly…' she said whilst simultaneously pulling open the cupboard closest to them in which there must have been stacked a good 20 or more shelves. Each with at least a hundred or so wads of paper jammed into them from corner to corner.

'I suppose we could use a summoning charm. The only problem is I'm not sure what to summon.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Accio TIBET PAPERS!' Draco shouted. The cupboard gave a great moan as a million sheets of paper suddenly flew in Draco's direction. They fell slowly like white lilies to the floor and landed in a snowy pool about his feet.

'I would have warned you about that.' Luna muttered quietly to herself, trying to keep her face smirk-free.

Mild annoyance would have been a significant understatement to the look he gave her.

'At least you've narrowed it down.' She said in a very 'that's a good boy' sort of way. It was patronising, but luckily Draco seemed far to absorbed in glaring at inanimate sheets of research paper on the floor to hear her.

Draco strode upstairs, pulling her along, tied her to the stair's railings and muttered a spell that seemed to make the chain duplicate itself in length.

'You check the trunk.' She barely saw him as he rushed back down the stairs.

_So far so good_.

Luna knew there was no chance he'd let her be alone on the level closest to the front door, and she was now a good three floors above the ground. Safe to say Draco was probably pretty certain she wouldn't attempt to jump from this height. The chain was just an extra precaution. She let him have a good few minutes to scan through the papers he was left with before she called down to him.

'Draco,'

'What?' He sounded agitated, she noted.

'His trunk's not up here anymore; he must have moved it into the living room. It has his most recent research in it. Probably just put it there for a bit of light reading, you know?' She gave him a moment. 'I'm sorry, I must have missed it on our way up. It'll be on the floor below you.'

'Right I'll go check then.'

The sound of faint, heavy steps followed as he descended the stairs, which meant there were now two floors between them.

_Should be enough_, she thought.

'It's here,' he called up. 'Where's the key?'

'You see the big thing that looks like a horn above the fireplace?'

An uncertain shout back of 'Yes,' followed.

'Daddy likes to hang all our keys on the wall hidden behind it. If the trunk's locked the key will be there.' Luna smiled. She could hardly control the excitement already trying to sneak into her voice.

'It won't move.' His shouts were growing more distance as Draco probably focused his attention on the Crumpled Horned Snorcack horn hanging on the wall.

The thing with Snorcacks is they get angry quite often. And when a Snorcack gets angry you know it's time to move.

'Try a little harder.' She yelled, trying to sound confident. It came quite naturally to her right now.

Snorcacks have a similar defence mechanism to a certain type of ant, and despite their difference in size the idea is still quite the same. You see, when angered, they bang their horns on the ground and the result is really quite splendid. It always amazed Luna how they never managed to kill themselves in the process but then again, she thought, that was probably what made it even more magnificent.

'Just give it a really big thud. That should do the trick.' she instructed.

Even though Luna covered her ears with plenty of time to spare the explosion still thudded on her eardrum, reverberating against it again and again, until all she could make out was a faint echo of a bang. The floor of her father's bedroom rumbled like the stomach of a hungry beast, ready to devour something large. She knew the damage would be immense, and hoped her father would forgive her.

The tiny gold chain fell to pieces and Luna stared down in horror, hoping she had not done what it seemed she had.

Both feet carrying her as quick as she could, she dashed down the two flights of stairs that had only just moments ago separated her from an dreadful headache. She found Draco straight away on the floor. He wasn't far from the remains of the horn which meant he'll have been very close when it exploded.

He was breathing, but only just. Fearing she'd done a lot worse than she'd truly meant to, Luna rolled Draco onto his back and checked his pulse. It was soft and almost undetectable, but it was there nonetheless.

Now came the decision she'd not really thought would be necessary. Draco needed medical attention, if he had a concussion then it was a lot more serious then she'd expected and Luna wouldn't be able to do anything on her own. But that would mean taking him home, and she would forfeit her chance of freedom.

When it came down to it, she only had two options: help an enemy or escape?

If she was perfectly honest, the decision was easy.


	10. Dark Orders

A/N- I'm not sure if the lack of reviews for the last chapter was because it was so rubbish, or because I'd left the story to gather dust for way too long. But please please review!

In this chapter Draco does some thinking, and you're about to get some answers, although right now they'll probably just create more questions so for that I apologise.

_I do not own any characters, places, spells etc... they belong to JKR!_

* * *

After a while the smell of clean, fresh air began to tempt Draco into consciousness. The sky could have been red, purple or blue and it irked him that he didn't have a clue which was closer to the truth. As one would expect, his first thought was his surroundings.

It felt like he was floating in a lake yet he didn't feel wet. He remained lying on his back, practically weightless, watching the blurred shapes of clouds and birds pass over. Lightly, his hair blew around his face, partly covering his eyes, acting like light curtains to the show. The mood took him back to an earlier time when the most fearsome thing in his life were the goblins hiding under his bed.

He was eight years old and it was summer. His family were on vacation and while his mother and father nestled close under a tree, surrounded by the breathtaking view of the Cymoedd De Cymru or South Wales Valleys. Draco drifted down the border of the lake, smiling as ripples of water began concentric journeys every time he moved his arms or legs. His mother called over, telling him they would be going in for supper soon. With the sun still casting warmth and not a cloud in the sky even though it was a few minutes short of eight o'clock, it was one of the best summers of Draco's childhood. Now it had been swept away with the rest of his life and existed as nothing more than a memory. If it could take him back to that day and make it last forever, he'd trade all the magic and money his family owned. It seemed the more danger that surrounded him the more he began to rely on the things that money and power alone couldn't afford: comfort, safety, happiness...

These days, happy thoughts came few and far between. A fairly hard thing for an eighteen year old boy to accept, but it wasn't as though his circumstances left him with any other choice. No longer could he have anything other than the Dark Lord's wishes as his precedence. Happiness isn't easily forgotten though, and there were times when Draco felt it's longing warmth pull at his heart. He was grateful for the life he had in a way because he wasn't stupid enough to think there was nobody worse off than him. There were thousands of people that would have been happy to trade with him. For one thing, he still had family. And for that, grateful didn't even come close to the word he wanted. But gratitude wasn't the same as happiness and Draco knew that more than most.

'_You, boy, come forward.' The cold voice said. It was only after a subtle shove from his uncle Rodolphus that Draco even registered it was he the Dark Lord was addressing._

_It was like stepping up to face death. In a way, he was._

_'Draco your father used to speak highly of you. In failing to retrieve my prophesy and being sent to Azkaban, he has left an unique opportunity for you . You want to prove yourself to me and I have just the thing for it.'_

_Draco had felt faint prior to a wave of relief passing over him. Following that had come a sense of fear. But he made sure his face stayed unreadable, it was one of the few traits of his father he had been lucky to inherit._

_Voldemort went on to tell of the awful mission Draco was to be handed. He felt like they were playing quidditch, and instead of facing an indomitable opponent himself, Lucius had faked an injury to get out the easy way, leaving Draco alone._

Lucius had never learnt to be a good sport, always a cheat. Draco respected his father more than most people did, but on some accounts he found his emotions towards him bordered on hatred.

Without a doubt that day had sealed his future. Not the day he received the mark but the day he figuratively turned his back on good forever. For how, if he succeeded in murdering Albus Dumbledore, was Draco expected to believe there was still good left in the world? He'd never been one to believe in the imaginary.

A second memory snuck out with this one. One that regardless of weeks trying to ignore it, Draco found it to be all he could think about.

The day Lord Voldemort ordered him to murder Pansy Parkinson.

* * *

Luna walked leisurely, regardless of the fact she probably should make haste lest they be seen. But the sky looked lovely and she had missed it so much. It was impossible to resist taking some time to gaze up at it.

Faint birds flew on their collective journey, all heading the same direction, a few flying faster and a few falling behind a little. It didn't really make much difference though, they all had the same direction and eventually they would all arrive at the same place. It made Luna smile.

* * *

At first, Draco had been adamant he would not do it. He had even surprised himself with the bravery that burst out of him, as he held Voldemort's watchful look.

He'd known Pansy almost his entire life, and for that moment he could only stammer and ask, _'Why?'_ It just made no sense.

Pansy, while not a death eater, knew and was friends with many of them. If it weren't for the fact she'd never been particularly gifted with her magic then she might have made a useful death eater one day. Secretly though, Draco was always glad she'd never headed in that direction completely. Pansy was a friend, and nothing more, but she was a good friend and one he cared about very much.

He was the only one who ever really saw that side of her, the friendly, caring side that would have shocked the girls at Hogwarts to their knickers, maybe even a few of the Slytherins. It made him sad to think like that, that he had been the _only_ one, as though she were already gone.

Besides the Dark Lord had said it was not imperative for him to do it straight away. And for weeks after he gave the order, Voldemort refused to give any reason to justify what he was asking of Draco.

He spoke only to his family about it, in other words his Mother.

Luna Lovegood didn't actually have a clue how much relied on her staying locked up at the manor. It was as simple as could be really; the minute Pansy had to leave her post as a spy, Draco would run out of time. He had no intention of killing his best friend, and Narcissa hadn't even needed him to tell her that, she just understood. He was glad his father was locked up, for it was hard to see Lucius tolerating a failure on Draco's part: Lucius had always been such a hypocrite.

But it would have been more than a moment of weakness as well for not only did Draco not want to kill anyone, he couldn't. Dumbledore had proved to him months ago that was the case. He simply didn't have the heart to take a life; no matter how cruel he could be Draco would never cross that line. He just wouldn't.

No one seemed to have the answer he needed. '_Why Pansy?', he'd asked_, over and over. Sometimes it was to himself, sometimes to his mother. He thought about it then. Retracing the train of thought he'd been enduringly following ever since that day with Voldemort.

Draco only noticed his whole left side was throbbing with pain when he reached his hand to his head, feeling an odd urge to rub his temple: The unmistakable sign of a headache coming on quickly. Rolling over to find out what was going on, Draco felt himself losing balance...

OOOOFFT

His body collided with the ground, hard, knocking the wind out of him as he landed flat on his back. He was aware that he must have been quite high in the air.

He noticed the strange outline of someone bending down over him, eclipsing the sun's rays as they move closer to his face.

'Draco?' the voice whispered nervously.

'Whoa, what's going on? I can't see anything!' he cried, trying to sit up but he found a hand cautiously push him back down again.

'Can you hear me? How are you feeling?'

The question took a long moment to register. 'Like I've just fell off a broom from twenty feet up,' He answered, but finding that it came out as a sort of gargled moan he just replied, 'not brilliant.'

He had no inclination of whether he were dreaming or not, so he was just going to go with it. What was the last thing he remembered? He'd been somewhere warm, that much was certain.

'Don't try to get up you might have a concussion, just keep your head resting.' they said, trying to sound calm.

'What the hell happened to me?' As he rolled his head over, all he could register around him were different hues of colours, and fuzzy shapes. The only reason he knew a wizard was talking to him was because he recognised their shape funnily enough, and felt the tip of a wand brushing against his side every so often.

They were armed.

Things were gradually forming something of what they were supposed to look like; he could tell they were on a field, for from the direction he looked in all he saw was a long, stretching, layer of green. Either that or they were swimming in Bulgeye potion. He hoped the former were true.

Memory was greeting him like a wary friend, taking it's time, not wanting to overwhelm him, and it was starting to get annoying. He remembered an oddly shaped house, in which all there was were stairs. Lots of them, climbing towards the roof as though reaching for sunlight; circling around themselves, coiling and uncoiling like snakes.

* * *

With Draco's head turned, he was unable to see Luna smile a little with relief. While she decided what was best to do next, Luna settled with trying to keep him talking, so he might not have time to remember what she'd done while it was still fresh in his mind.

'How's your head? I'm not so good with healing spells so it probably won't be perfect.' She kept smiling; this could work out a lot better than she thought. All she needed was for him to prove her right, that his injuries weren't major at all. She was beginning to feel a pre-relief tingle. He would be ok.

'It's not too bad, feels like it's getting a little better by the minute actually.'

Now she could focus on herself. She only needed to send her patronus off to headquarters.

She would need to be careful though for Snape's words were still playing about in her mind and while she found it somehow extreme to say Harry would kill a death eater, there was no guarantee saying he'd let them off easy.

'Stay there,' she whispered to Draco as she prepared to say the words.

* * *

Not wanting to make it easy for him, his brain was lethargically dwindling somewhere between useless and indifference. He pushed harder; feeling strongly that time was rushing past and that he needed to be quick.

'_Home, Voldemort, a room, an order_ _(there are always orders these days)...'_

Above him he could hear someone trying to conjure a patronus.

Who had he been with? Lovegood. A strange fear welling up inside him ready to burst caused Draco to suddenly snap up. Everything lurching right back to him in one go: the elastic band had been stretched to breaking point and it snapped back with power.

'Luna!' he roared, scrambling to his feet; his hand outstretched, ready to snatch what he could now see was his own wand from her fingers. 'Don't!'

In that instant he saw everything that could happen, everything that would happen if it worked the next time.

He got to his feet in an instant, aiming to get the wand which she pulled out of his hand's reach. Angry now, he pushed Luna to the ground, wrestling with her for a moment and eventually using his arm to pin her down whilst he made a grab for the wand she was flailing about in the air. He didn't even think and neither did he try to stop his hand as it flew through the air, hitting her with such force on the cheek that she sank to the floor, her hand against the dark red bruise as it instantly appeared. He grabbed the wand as she let it fall to the floor, forgotten in the momentary shock he'd caused her.

Draco didn't know what to say, he'd never hit a girl like that in his life, and the play fights with Pansy never reached the stage of bruising one another.

He bent down to grab her arm to aparate back to the Manor (at this point he didn't know what he'd tell Voldemort).

But she visibly flinched at his movement and timidly moved away from him.

Unintentional though it was he had frightened her.

Not knowing what to say, he crouched down and sank to his knees a little distance in front of her. She watched him carefully.

Perhaps it was time to tell her. After that, it was the least he could do.


	11. Unforseen Changes

A/N: thankyou to those who reviewed the last chapter! This story's almost at the halfway point now, there's roughly 23/24 chapters in all. Once again please please review! They help alot more than you'd think. Here we are then, chapter eleven. Enjoy!

* * *

The first six words were the hardest: 'I have to tell you something,' Draco said, not looking at her but not looking away either. 'There was more than one reason Pansy was sent to impersonate you.'

Luna waited patiently lest she disturb his fleeting moment of honesty and knock him back into the tense state she'd grown used to seeing him in.

'Pansy was in danger. _He_ wanted her dead.' He knew she'd know who he meant. 'My mother devised the plan that it would be her who would switch. It would have been Astoria before she went and got herself killed.' When he next spoke his voice sounded robotic, it reminded Luna of when she'd spoken to Harry just after his godfather had been killed. 'Pansy was a good enough alternative, she had the knowledge she would need to blend in. What with knowing pretty much everyone in the order from school or from seeing them fight in battles. So we convinced him to let her live, now that he had a good reason to keep her alive he was easily persuaded by my mother and Severus.'

Luna thought he looked sad, but it could have just been a trick of the light, for when she blinked a second later he had become a robot once again.

'I understand.' She kind of did. 'But why would Voldemort want to kill her?' Draco flinched at the name and Luna noticed, but let it go unmentioned. She knew he still feared his name and could not judge him when it seemed to be the most 'normal' thing to do.

Draco sighed. 'I don't know, and if I'm honest I don't want to. There isn't even one reason that could justify it from where I'm standing.'

It was difficult not to sympathise with Draco at that point. Luna leaned her head a touch closer to were he sat, using his knees as a cushion. 'You care for her a lot don't you?'

His words went unspoken for there was no need to give an answer. They both knew he cared for Pansy. Luna nodded, confirming her own question. 'Yes you seemed to be around each other a lot at school. Did you go out?'

'No. Never.'

It sounded improbable when you'd seen Pansy practically fawn over the boy, and Luna had. As it was she took his word for it.

'So, is that why you won't let me go?' _Won't, not can't_. Luna thought, for she knew he could if he wanted to. 'Will Pansy still be in danger if she comes back now?'

'Yes.' He replied in answer to both. As the long and tired sun made it's way steadily up into the sky it gave the illusion of a weary animal, using every ounce of strength it had to make the last few steps to the summit of a mountain. It glowed, making their surroundings comes to life slowly but beautifully, like a flower blossoming late.

Draco's face remained turned from her, making it difficult to guess at his thoughts.

He stood and with a swish of his long cloak his back was turned to her as well.

'I'm, sorry.' Luna said quickly, while she still meant it. 'I lied to you back there and I shouldn't have.' She wasn't trying to appeal to his good side in the hopes of gaining his pity, she meant it.

Draco laughed. 'You can hardly be blamed for wanting freedom Luna.' Then he turned to her and added, 'I'd have done the same.'

They looked upon each other: her hair wild, tattered, her clothes torn in places with the edges scuffed and blackened. Him with his hair still neatly ruffled despite the minor explosion he'd just been a part of, and his clothes clean and tidy. They looked at complete opposite sides of the spectrum, but inside Luna's mind was as peaceful as a calmly running stream while Draco's raged with the ferociousness of a tidal wave. His thoughts seemed to crash against Luna as their eyes met. Grey and silver: a discoloured winter moon that couldn't quite shine as white as normal.

Human instinct took over Luna, and she rose to stand behind Draco, the wind gushing about her feet making her dress look wavy and alive. She knew what it felt like to have a manic mind and it seemed to bounce out of Draco, whether he knew it or not: radiating around him making him seem completely under and out of control at the same time. He looked at her with the same expression, even as she lifted her hand to touch his shoulder. It didn't change, and it made her wonder whether he was awake at all. The only reason she knew he was, was that he closed his eyes and placed his own hand on top of hers, which startled her a little.

'We need to go back now.' he said simply, not in a friendly tone, but it was better than coldness. 'We're expected.'

It seemed he had forgotten so Luna spoke up instead, 'We didn't find the papers.' Draco nodded but didn't say anything to show he was worried about the matter.

'I don't want to get you in trouble-', she wondered how would be the right way to settle it. 'What exactly does he want him for, the man I mean?' She would help Draco, which would consequently mean helping Voldemort, but she was willing to so long as she knew what she was helping with. If it was something that could guarantee the victory of dark over light then there was no way Luna would even consider it. Not even if it did save both their skins that day.

'I don't know. No one does. I thought my aunt might, since she's as close to him as any of them probably will get. But if she does she's not talking.'

She had been expecting something to go on, and she needed more information before she made a decision either way. 'Draco do you not know anything at all.'

'No. All I know of the man is that he made one of the most complicated necklaces in the world, it's said to be magical. The last I heard some woman in London bought it, but I wouldn't be surprised if Borgin had got his mitts on it by now. It's the kind of thing he'd go for.' Draco, upon seeing Luna's face light up with the thought of an answer, muttered, 'But the dark lord wouldn't have any use for the necklace. It's the man he really wants to find, and I don't know why.

Perhaps Voldemort simple wanted to go window shopping for rare jewellery. It was a naive thought at best, but it gave Luna the justification she needed. From inside her pocket she pulled out a wrinkled sheet of parchment she'd grabbed just before rescuing Draco from the house, and handed it to him. 'It was in the pile of sheets you summoned. Figured I'd take it with me to the order, if it was important to the dark lord.' Draco looked shocked.

'You don't have to do this you know,' a small part of his voice, the unused part she'd heard once before, sounded as though he didn't really want her too. There was hope for Draco. She could tell he hadn't turned completely, well not yet anyway. He smiled at her.

'It's okay. I don't want you to get in trouble.' Luna took the gentle squeeze he gave her hand as he claimed the parchment as his way of saying 'Thankyou'.

'Can I ask a favour in return?' While he was in a good mood, she would make the moment last.

'Can we walk for a little while longer before you take me back, I don't want to say goodbye to the day yet. It's very dark in that dungeon.'

Draco looked at her, and then at the sun, as if reading her thoughts. After nodding once they set off together Luna's smile matching the content bobbing motion of her walk as she bounced ever so slightly alongside Draco. The overall image was one of childlike innocence, and it didn't matter that she no loner was a child because she was happy, and she was innocent. Lost inside the wide expanse of the world but completely certain of who she was and where she was going. Draco both admired this about her and envied her for it. He would never tell her though.

There was a slope to the field and they began to walk upwards. It was like walking towards heaven as the sun shone right before them, their shadows short behind them as it reached midday.

Luna felt happy. And it was with less heartache than she expected that herself and Draco reached the end of their walk and he turned to her, holding his arm out. There was still no free will in the matter, but the fact that he let her take his arm and not snatch it from her, was respectful. Luna was grateful to him for that small allowance of freedom.

When they arrived at the manor Draco did not remove his arm from Luna's hold straight away, he let her adjust herself for a moment and then slowly began the walk down his garden path. Luna followed close behind. She couldn't keep her eyes from flicking back and forth between the parchment (her father's research) and Draco's back. There was a nagging feeling warning her of something she would regret, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do, and therefore it was. Luna would not judge herself. She'd done the right thing and would face whatever that brought her way. Draco's mother was sat in an armchair as they entered the front hall. Draco gave Luna a nudge over to her and Luna couldn't quite make out what he'd mouthed to Narcissa before he walked down the corridor with a strong and determined stride: he would no doubt be going to tell the dark lord of his success.

'Come with me Luna.' Narcissa spoke whilst she gestured to a door off the right of where they had entered. 'It's okay.'

Together they ascended a dark, spiralling staircase, whose only light source was the tiny porthole shaped windows that followed them up to what felt like the second floor of the manor. Narcissa's hair shone brightly in the rare moment of light and the fine material of her dress practically sparkled. For a death eater's wife Narcissa was really quite beautiful.

She opened a door leading away from the staircase and led Luna through it into brightness.

There were so many doors, each identical and Luna supposed this was the servants quarters, or spare guest rooms as the space between each door suggested there wasn't all that much room in each room. The contradiction made her laugh, but Narcissa didn't seem to notice.

'Thank you Luna.' It was a strange thing to hear to say the least, and Luna wasn't expecting it. She had assumed it was an order that she helped and so it felt strange to be thanked for doing so. Then again so far Narcissa had given Luna the impression she was not like the majority of the people that lived in the house anyway.

There was something about the décor up here that struck Luna as odd: whereas the rest of the house followed an elegant pattern of style, either with dark brooding walls or crisp white ceilings, this floor seemed a little more homely, there was nothing fancy about the cream carpet that nuzzled her feet or the pastel shaded lamps hanging from the ceilings. In a way, it reminded her lot of the burrow. It was hardly extravagant but it had a humble feel, unlike everywhere else in the manor in which it seemed the decorator had intended everything to portray just how wealthy the family living there was.

It was one of the last doors on the left that they stopped at, Narcissa laying a hand on the handle while Luna grew curious as to why they were here. 'You've spent enough time down there now. This is my house and I at least like to show welcome; since you've proven you're not going to be trouble for us I feel there's no harm in this.' Narcissa spoke, opening the door. Inside was a clean looking room. It had a bed and a wardrobe, but not much else, as Luna would have thought. However what she saw facing her made her heart spring to attention. A long window crossed the far wall with sheer white hangings on either side. Through it, she could make out a faint curve of a river somewhere in the distance, a lovely green Hazel tree and the sinking sun even further beyond the pair of them. She would never take a view like that for granted again.

'So long as you comply with anything asked of you, and make no trouble for anyone, this room is yours.' The older witch said, Luna noticed a resemblance. Narcissa too could fall into a monotone sort of voice. Luna wondered if someone somewhere was typing out Narcissa's script as she spoke it, leaving stage directions unmentioned so all she could do was read the words wrote. Both of them showed signs of having little control over their lives and it made Luna sad to think it could very well be true.

'Thankyou,' Luna whispered, afraid Narcissa would change her mind at any moment. She did not. She did, however, move closer to Luna and looked upon her like a mother would if their child came in from playing in the mud.

'You've lost more weight.' She said impatiently, as if it was supposed to be Luna's fault.

'It doesn't matter, it's not like I'm entering a beauty competition.' Luna laughed half-heartedly.

'I'll bring you up some lunch,' she smiled as she left Luna alone.

Now left to her own devices Luna wondered what the limits of this newfound independence would be, she didn't have to wonder long. As she heard Narcissa walk away, to where she knew the hidden staircase waited, she heard the unmistakable clunk of a locking door. So much for trust, she thought.

It was like an extension of her former prison though much more comfortable. She decided to lie on the bed for a while, her muscles sensed a chance to relax and the soft mattress seemed to smother them with love. A spider crawled along the ceiling, making circles around himself when he came to the corner. She watched him construct his makeshift indoor home for a while, nodding at him as he displayed his web skills.

'I suppose it must be nice to be you, setting up home whenever you need one.' He paid her no attention, of course she had hardly expected for him to turn around and begin chatting, but continued on for a while in his one little world.

A popping sound to her right made her aware that a plate of cheese and bread had appeared on a small table she hadn't really noticed until then. Another pop and there was a bowl of what looked and smelled like pea soup. Luna's stomach took one quick glance at the food and it rumbled loudly, tickling her into a suppressed giggle.

She ate it hungrily and then, stuck for what to do afterwards, chose to return to her earlier spot by the window. It must be growing near evening for purple dashes were starting to strike across the sky, fading behind the few clouds that had materialised. A black bird, too far away to make out what it was, had taken off for its destination, and Luna watched as it shrunk from looking like a blot of ink of a page to a smallish full-stop and eventually the smallest dot a quill could make.

She wondered then of her friends, of how they were getting along on their quest to destroy Voldemort, and now in addition to her thought's usual agenda she spared a moment for Pansy, wondering if she was as scared as Luna. Did she know she was marked for death? Luna hoped not, otherwise she would be little more than a prisoner herself.

She couldn't help the curiosity she felt. There was more to be told, more to learn, and Luna didn't know whether she could only apply that to herself or Draco as well. Because though she did believe him, the way he had spoken to her earlier had been indifferent, maybe a little too indifferent. Voldemort was not a man she could imagine putting an awful lot of trust into his followers, even those belonging to his most inner circle. She imagined Bellatrix would be his first Lieutenant, as it were. So she was her best chance of finding out more, but also the unlikeliest.

Then there was Draco, whom she now seemed to be on relatively okay terms with. He was her best chance to escape, but again now that she knew why he was so careful regarding her, she figured he'd be the unlikeliest to help her.

* * *

It was growing near dark when Luna heard the bang. It had come from below as her floorboards appeared to shake a little. Then there was screaming, and if she wiggled her ear as close to the floor as she could then the words were almost audible. It was a woman shrieking painfully loud, and a man: although from his growling, rough accent he sounded more like an animal. Bellatrix and Greyback Luna supposed. She was suddenly thankful for the few inches of wood that separated them.

'NOT THE SAME!' Bellatrix yelled, and Luna pictured her throwing her arms madly around as she huffed and puffed her words out.

The growl retorted something that sounded like 'MAD' but it could have easily been anything that rhymed with it, bad, sad, glad and such, for his voice drawled them out like saliva from the jaw of a beast.

'IT'S NOT RIGHT!' she shrieked, upon which more crashing ensued. Luna's awareness was wild with a passion. She listened, waiting for them to say more but eventually the voices faded away and with them went the bangs that had made Luna think they were fighting.

Not more than a minute later the voices sounded again, this time coming from below her window and as she carefully peeked over the edge of the windowsill, what Luna saw made her breath catch in between her throat and her lungs, waiting.

Out on the patch of lawn that wasn't obscured by trees, she saw Remus Lupin. His entire body convulsed madly while Bellatrix ran for cover behind a nearby tree, where she seemed to be crying or breathing very heavily.

'It's just a bit of sport Bella!' Luna heard Greyback jeer from somewhere out of sight.

'It's not right, if you kill him you'll have the Dark Lord to answer to!' she sounded terrified at the thought.

Remus shook, and from the utmost pain in his screams Luna knew he was being tortured. 'Now then Lupin, are you going to do what you should have done weeks ago.'

From the way he panted, curled on his side, Luna had never seen Remus look so utterly defeated, but there was no mistaking the strength and courage the tore out of him as he roared 'Never!'

'What- A- Pity.' Greyback did not sound disheartened in the slightest. He emphasised every word giving them more meaning than Luna could guess at.

'_Our_ army numbers are dwindling Remus and you refuse to turn those we've asked you to.' He moved into the light of twilight as he blocked Luna's view of Lupin, standing over him with power; a wolf ready to pounce.

Luna couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her throat as she watched powerless. Bellatrix too looked beyond fearful now, as she pressed her body so tightly into the tree it was like she was trying to melt herself in with it.

Greyback lowered his wand, tucking it into his robes. He bent down to Remus, so close that Luna didn't stand a chance of hearing what he said.

Remus cried in agony, though it seemed no spell had been used.

Luna wanted to cry out, to tell him she was there, to tell him she wanted to help. But the thoughts of Pansy overruled her judgement, leaving her with no more options; she merely bit her tongue and waited.

'Let him go Greyback.' Bellatrix seemed to have gained some composure back. 'He knows the consequences of disobeying orders twice.' She walked out from behind her safe spot, holding her head high in an attempt to show she was not afraid.

'I want that lot turned Remus.' He then sighed, rolling his head downwards. 'I know you. You wouldn't want me turning your precious fiancé now, would you?'

Remus said nothing back.

Greyback dragged him to his feet, putting a mocking arm on his shoulder. 'You bring us the last of the order as wolves, with the exception of Potter, or I'll bite your precious Nyphadora's neck in half.'

Luna could have cried. She could hardly believe it.

'Go on Remus.' He said, motioning him over to the gate. 'I'll be seeing you soon.'

Remus walked away, stumbling along beyond the front gate and out into the quickly descending night.

She heard the other two enter the manor and waited, though no more sound was to be heard that night.

Sitting back down on the bed, half shaking from shock and half from fear for her dear friend, Luna let the tears roll down her cheeks. She felt as helpless as a person watching an execution, knowing deep down there wasn't anything she could do. She trusted Remus to do the right thing, and wondered what that would mean. Probably that she might never see him and Tonks again. It was like being lost in a battle where no one even knew she existed.

The night that followed was long and mostly sleepless. And as the moon handed over to the dawn, the trace of newly shed tears still shone on the cheeks of Luna's face.


	12. Big and Small Things

A/N: I'm so sorry for this overdue update, actually overdue isn't the word! Hopefully I can make it up to you all now with regular updates again.

Enjoy!

* * *

One of the hardest things in life is knowing when to speak up, act and make a difference or to sit down, be quiet and let destiny run its course. This wasn't a decision Luna was good at making, and she really didn't enjoy it, in fact it made her stomach churn inside until she felt sick.

'Luna, come with me.' Narcissa had told her earlier that morning and now here she was, outside in the type of day you could neither call pleasant nor disastrous, it was simply a day: nothing else special about it. She knelt near the array of flower beds towards the left side of the mansion where row upon row of beautiful flowers laid waiting for their winter fate to be decided.

The house elves were all busy today as the Malfoy's were holding an upper class (in other words strictly pure-blood) dinner, and as they lady of the house Narcissa could simply not let anything go amiss. So every elf was indoors today, preparing decorations, cleaning from floor to roof and every sparklingly fancy nook and cranny between.

Luna was being made useful by picking flowers from the garden, and it didn't bother her that she was being treated any differently to a house elf, she was just thankful to finally have time to breathe. To breathe and to think.

The image of Remus's face swam in her vision like a plague, and all she wished to do was to bat him away. She was growing used to not seeing her friends, to not knowing what was happening outside of the manor, but now that she knew her friends' lives weren't as easy as she remembered, she couldn't shake the feeling that her imprisonment here was becoming more and more restricted: despite that fact she was now allowed outside.

Because no matter how hard she tried, all she wanted to do was break down those front gates and run hard and fast into the countryside, in some hope of getting home.

All thought of Pansy had been dimmed now, for she didn't know she was even threatened. But Remus knew he was, and knowing him and Tonks he wouldn't have kept his mission from her for longer than a breath's pause. She instantly felt guilty for not caring about Pansy. Luna's conscience was like a lead anchor weighing her down sometimes, keeping her low and making her wish for nothing more than to be rid of it. But she knew that kind of thinking was silly and, more importantly, seflish.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she pricked her finger on the thorn of a rather striking rose.

'Ouch, that wasn't very nice…' she mumbled to the flower, now sucking her cold and stinging finger.

A laugh from behind signalled Draco's approach. His warm coat hugged him tightly and as his boots sunk into the muddy grass they gave him the look of a hiker, on his way home from a walk in the woods.

'Here,' he threw a pair of gardening gloves down at her feet and she put them on gratefully.

It's strange how things happen, how one minute you consider someone an enemy, and the next they're handing you a pair of gloves to save your skin. And the next, Luna sighed hearing his footsteps fade away they're gone.

Concentrating on the flowers she noticed how they'd been planted in concentric circles, their sizes alternating the further out from the centre they got. On the very edge were a few beautiful big blue flowers that she didn't know the name of. But they were very beautiful, and Narcissa struck her as someone who would like blue.

A colour to calm and soothe, yet its neutralness meant it would appeal to both men and women at the dinner. Luna's hand swooped upon the flowers, carefully but quickly plucking their roots from the soil; like a bandage being removed swiftly.

At the other edge of the garden she caught a glimpse of Bellatrix. Two house elves trailing slowly behind her, leaving enough distance to feel safer yet still hear whatever it was she would be ordering them to do.

She flailed her arms around pointing to things here and there, pulling sour faces as she passed anyone or anything. Her long raven hair was pulled into a horrendously messy bun on top of her head; she sort of looked like she was wearing a huge hat. Yet, Luna noticed, Bellatrix was still rather striking in appearance.

One of the elves caught Luna watching.

He or she seemed like they'd seen better days. Apparently the elves here were not looked after well at all. Harry had once mentioned how he rescued Dobby from being enslaved to the Malfoy family, and though Luna found the story rather boastful at the time, she realised now that perhaps a few more of these elves could do with rescuing.

Unfortunately, she mused as her bare feet brushed the soft grass as she stood back up, Luna was fresh out of socks.

She gathered a few of the pretty blue flowers in the basket Narcissa had provided and then ventured over to another part of the garden. Here, a little further from the house, the flower beds were literally more like beds. Row upon row of small flowers rested their petals, in honesty Luna was amazed any of these flowers were blooming when given the chill of winter that was ever present. A few creamy white lilies finished her make-shift bouquet which she found planted near a small pond. It seemed that life within the garden was ever growing.

Inside the manor was a different story: it remained dim despite the sudden voluptuous attendance of people for dinner. Later that evening Luna watched through her window as people began to appear down the bottom of the garden path. She noticed there were many ladies, all dressed smartly, yet few men. Perhaps there were to be more acquaintances rather than death eaters here tonight.

As far as Luna knew the only significant female Death Eaters were Draco's aunt and mother. She'd rarely heard others being mentioned.

A little before the sun went down another tray of food landed on her table. Luna nibbled slowly at the bread, mouse like bites that gave her no satisfaction. Overwhelmed with worry for her friends, she was not hungry. She sighed and put her food down.

The instant she touched the corner of her bed sheet, ready to go to sleep, a thin nightgown appeared folded on the pillow. Her fingers softly brushed the cream cotton and she whispered a silent 'thank you'.

* * *

Downstairs Draco sat at the table playing with his food before shovelling it into his mouth greedily. His mother, watching, shook her head; Boys would be boys. Narcissa spoke in turn with most of the women sat at the table, and then a few of his father's friends. He watched with curiosity as she continued to chatter away, while his father's seat at the head of the table remained empty.

Nobody inquired as to why Draco was there and not at school, it was now into September and normally Draco would be lounging in his common room humouring Crabbe and Goyle and their ridiculous attempts at male banter. As it was, with his father imprisoned and mother left with a house to look after on her own, not to mention a certain other dark complication it simply hadn't seemed appropriate for Draco to return this year.

He was not sure if missing his final year at Hogwarts would make that much difference to him now anyway. In replacement of his school studies his mother had hired an old wizard named Ronan to tutor Draco.

The man was old and quite slow, but he was an old family friend and so if keeping him in work meant Draco had to bite his tongue a few times a lesson then so be it. Draco was not really too bad a guy.

Ronan sat across from him now, giving him a small smile as he noticed Draco's silence. Draco tried not to laugh as, whilst talking idly to Madame Figglethorn, Ronan's spoon repeatedly missed his mouth.

Instead a small pool was gathering on the man's chin and though it put Draco off his own soup a little he found it more amusing than anything.

'These centrepieces really are lovely Narcissa,' Ronan's unamused neighbour remarked.

'Thank you, fresh from our garden they are. Those blue flowers you see there,' she pointed to the blue flowers that Draco couldn't name. 'African Lilies,' she smiled proudly. Draco remembered seeing Luna picking flowers earlier, in fact was it not those very flowers? His mother must have appreciated the girl's taste.

Draco didn't quite know what to do about Luna. His conscience pulled to one side whilst his heart pulled to another. He wasn't quite sure who had hold of which reign, Pansy or Luna. It seemed as much as he wanted to help Luna his feelings for Pansy prevented any course of action he could take. No, for now Luna did not need his help, she was not in danger. Pansy on the other hand was.

Mrs Greengrass, Draco stiffened a little and his eyes glazed over, Astoria's mother had clearly had a few too many glasses of their wine. She lolled a little in her seat and as she told his mother it was time for her to leave, Narcissa mouthed to Draco to see she got to their gates ok. Draco took her hand and led her down the steps at the front of the manor. She wobbled against him, the smell of wine was a little overpowering and Draco hazarded a guess that she'd been drinking long before she'd arrived.

'Will you be ok from here Madame?' Draco spoke politely, his pureblood relation to Mrs Greengrass not letting his manners slip in formality. She nodded and Draco noticed a trace a tears in her eyes, they shone in the falling moonlight and Draco pitied her. It must be awful to lose a daughter.

'She always liked you, you know Draco.' She hiccupped, shaking a little though he could not tell if it was the cold, the wine or sadness. 'Ast-astoria. Such a lovely girl.' Draco had never been good with crying women. He looked around and seeing that nobody would be coming to his help right now he placed a hand on her shoulders.

He spoke quietly but with an attempt at confidence. 'I understand you miss her, she'll be missed by many of us. I cared for her too, but I'm sure you already know that.' His heart hurt a little at his own words but he blocked it out. Draco had never been one to deal with emotions, it was better to shut them away.

'You don't-' hiccup, 'understand.' She said to him.

'I know why my dear daughter was killed Draco.' Her eyes darkened, the wine not quite having any effect on them. 'It was _him_. I know it was. They all tell me differently but I know...' she sighed, 'I know.' The words hung between them like a rope waiting to be caught, Draco would not talk though. He let the rope dangle back and forth, back and forth.

Mrs Greengrass lent in closer, as though she were waiting to tell him something she'd been told not to. She looked around and seeing nobody close went on. 'I know your duty Draco. Pansy is a lovely girl too, I'd hate to see anything happ-' hiccup, 'happen to her,' she said.

'Pansy is fine, there's no need to worry about her.' Draco said, opening the gate and not entirely paying much heed to a drunken woman's words.

'There will be, dear, there will be' she said, touching his cheek lightly. He fought the urge to bat her hand away.

'What do you mean will be?'

'Let's just say everything _he_ wants has a way of coming about in the end.' She looked away, her eyes glazing like his had earlier. She seemed to be seeing something that wasn't there. Probably, Draco thought, hope.

Filled with a fresh wave of unease Draco let his hand drop back to his side. Mrs Greengrass gave him a smile, one that didn't quite seem genuine, before she popped into the air, leaving him alone to shut the gate again.

Full well knowing it would be considered bad manners to not say goodbye to other guests but not caring, Draco took a right upon re-entering the manor's front doors. He ascended the staircase his mother had taken Luna up the day before. Decidedly avoiding the dining hall and all the idealistic light hearted talk within Draco knew the best way to avoid unwanted conversation with guests right now was to make a shortcut upstairs, past the guest bedrooms and the upstairs library. In other words, a little voice in his head told him, on the way past Luna's room. He shot the voice down.

Opening a door about halfway up the stairs Draco stopped, unsure why it had been left unlocked. Letting it slide he walked slowly, not sure if she would be awake or not. He paused outside the room with a tray full of uneaten food, knowing full well it would be hers and leant his head against the door. Needing a moment to just be quiet Draco leant his body against the wood and in a unexpected lurch it swung open. It was partly due to his sneeker-like reflexes that Draco instantly regained his balance. Why on earth was her door unlocked? Draco's eyes took a moment to readjust to the darkness but they quickly found Luna sleeping peacefully on her bed when they did. He supposed she must have not known her door had been unlocked, otherwise she could have easily slipped out unnoticed by now since nobody had checked on her since tea-time.

Draco sighed and gently shut the door again, this time locking it for good measure, just as his foot kicked the food tray on the floor. He stared at it, frustrated, before calling a house elf.

'Murphy!' he whispered.

The elf appeared next to him in less than a full second, bowing low and paying an awful lot of attention to the floor.

'Clean this up will you, and don't just leave it laying out here again you lazy elf!' Draco stalked away.

'I is sorry young master, nobody even been up here to take it out of girl's room.' He wasn't a particularly articulate elf. 'I isn't quite sure why it be getting left out there,' the elf picked the tray up before popping away.

Luna must have put it there. But then, Draco wondered, why had she stayed inside her room anyway? He went back to her door, unlocked it and had a quick check inside. It had definitely been unlocked. She must have known it was open and she must have left the tray there. This puzzled him to no end. She was actually helping him, him. He couldn't believe it nor see any other explanation for why she had not left. She probably didn't want to endanger Pansy and Draco was instantly glad he had told Luna the truth about it all. He crossed the room quickly, intending to wake her up but his hand stopped a few inches short of prodding her. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her forehead glistened a little in the light. She must be having a bad dream, he thought.

Shivering beneath the thin sheet that covered her Luna seemed to be hugging herself and it made something in Draco's hard expression soften a little. He conjured a thick blanket and placed it over her to keep her warm. His fingers brushed hers and in that deep silence he whispered, 'Thank you.' Perhaps there was hope for her afterall.


End file.
